Malasadas For The Healing Soul
by Thought Reflex
Summary: Danny has been snatched away from his team, violently. Struggling to come to grips with secrets unintentionally revealed they are hellbent on getting him back; Steve worries he might be too late. Danny&Steve centric. TEAM!ANGST!PAIN!..comfort? no pairings
1. Prologue

**Rating**: This is the **unrated version**! Okay, it's more like PG13

**Characters/Pairings**: Danny Williams! Steve McGarrett! Chin Ho Kelly, Kono Kalakaua, Grace and friends! No pairing unless you count the wonderful power of bromance, friendship and family

**Warnings**: Violence, Strong Language, Slightly AU because of a superpower (hopefully not in a tacky way), non-main character deaths, abuse of run-on sentences. OH! And angst! Lots and lots of ANGST! And some minor torture bits with sappiness intermingled… you get the idea.

**Notes:** HUUUUUGE thanks to my Beta Laryn, who took the time to go through this monster without ever watching the show. That ladies and gentlemen is the sign of a wonderful friend! Obviously all mistakes left are allll mine; I'm greedy like that.

Also a giant thanks to Evening Spirit and Aluminis who have made incredible art work for this story which you have to see! Check out the links to these pictures in my profile!

**Summary**** (preview?): **"Let's talk about your daughter," Marcel said with the politeness of a circling shark and pushed the cooling coffee mug to sit before Danny once again. Danny continued to ignore it. He couldn't drink it now anyway, the nausea had doubled since the picture had been laid out and he had to take several deep breaths to calm down. Jesus. He felt sick with dread.

Steve had better find him.

Soon.

-H5O-

MALASADAS FOR THE HEALING SOUL

PROLOGUE

-H5O-

His dislike of boats had nothing to do with the boats themselves, or even the generally overwhelming amount of water they sat on. Oh no, without question his dislike of boats came from the rocking; the relentless, never ending back and forth that made his stomach roll and his last meal threaten to make a reappearance no matter how small the waves might be. When he woke up with his head pounding and his exhausted body aching in a far too familiar way, it was the nausea that told him he was on a boat. Correction: he was _still_ on a boat.

Needless to say when the two men baring arms had barged into his previously pitch black cabin (cell) and dragged him off his miserably uncomfortable cot and into what could only be the ship's dining area, he had not been the most polite of prisoners.

Four blackening bruised eyes later, only one of which adorned his own face, he found himself being forcefully shoved onto a hard wooden chair with his escorts looming menacingly behind him. They were so close he imagined he could feel their body heat on his skin and the knowledge that it would only take one well-placed elbow driving backwards to take them and their family jewels out of commission had him twitching in his chair. He kept his elbows to himself for now though, mainly because he just didn't have the energy for any more useless fights, and crossed his arms over his chest. He felt chilled, had a headache that rivaled the first day he'd worked with Steve, and had no qualms sharing his anger by leveling his best glare at the man sitting comfortably across the small table from him.

"Mr. Williams," Marcel greeted as he looked him over briefly, his gaze lingering on his swelling eye before he leaned forward and gently slid a cup of what looked like coffee across the table to sit before Danny. "I hope you slept well," he addressed politely and Danny increased the heat of his glare, making no move to take the proffered drink. He wasn't that desperate yet.

"I'd sleep better at home in my own bed, but hey, I'd settle for solid ground if that's the best you're willing to offer," he snarled in response.

"I'm afraid that's not possible, Daniel." Marcel barely blinked as he stared at him and then shrugged casually, almost regretfully.

"I prefer Detective Williams," he snapped back, and he wouldn't lie to himself: the man was creepy. Danny clenched his fists tightly as the ship rocked and the coffee mug slid an inch to the left. Marcel's lips quirked, apparently finding that amusing and then shifted to lean forward over the table, his fingers steepled before. "You are aware of the reasons I can not simply allow you to leave our company, of course," his confidence absolute and grating heavily on Danny's already strained nerves.

"And you are aware that abduction and unlawful detainment is frowned upon, even in international waters." Danny crossed his arms more tightly in a wasted effort to feel warmer.

"Yes, well I suppose we can both agree that this would be one of my tamer felonies," Marcel shrugged and took a sip of espresso. "But I am more interested in discussing you and your…unique disposition."

"Let me go," Danny snarled, anger curling in his stomach and becoming even more intense as Marcel remained unmoved across from him.

"I see you're not yet ready to cooperate."

"That's not likely to change," he snapped, met the man's eyes defiantly, tried to hold onto his remaining calm and refused to flinch when one of the men behind him laid a heavy paw on his shoulder and squeezed in warning.

"Oh, I'm certain it will." Marcel held out his hand and the woman who had been standing diligently behind him stepped forward to hand a dark folder over. Danny swallowed thickly as he watched it flip open and had its contents laid on the table. His eyes tracked over the colourful, glossy image and his entire world turned white hot with fury. It took everything he had to not try and leap across the table to rip the guys throat out; he knew he wouldn't make it past standing with the men diligently guarding over him, and he forced himself to take a calm, deep breath. He was not at all comforted that the man didn't seem even mildly intimidated. He didn't look smug either, which was a little surprising, he just looked...interested. Deeply, intensely interested and Danny was without a doubt the object of this fascination. He looked back down at the picture before him and had to clench his jaw shut as a new fear began to build.

"Let's talk about your daughter," Marcel said with the politeness of a circling shark and pushed the cooling coffee mug to sit before Danny once again. Danny continued to ignore it. He couldn't drink it now anyway, the nausea had doubled since the picture had been laid out and he had to take several deep breaths to calm down. Jesus. He felt sick with dread.

Steve had better find him.

Soon.


	2. Breaking Cover

CHAPTER 1: Breaking Cover

-H5O-

When the shrill ringing of the phone pierced the otherwise tranquil peace of his apartment Bryce had turned his head towards the coffee table and glared at it. Across the room his brother was sitting at the kitchen table, the newspaper spread out before him and a beer in hand. He made no move to get the phone, instead looking to Bryce to see what he was going to do. Bryce frowned, mixed feelings of irritation and intrigue warring within until he finally decided that he might as well see what the guy wanted. No harm in answering even if it did interrupt a perfectly nice afternoon nap. He sat up and grabbed at the ringing phone, ignoring the multitude of other cells that sat beside it on the glass coffee table, and snapped it open with a practiced flip of the wrist.

"Yeah," he didn't bother with pleasantries, there was only one person who knew this particular phones number and Bryce couldn't say he and his brother were overly impressed with the man right now. Even if he had paid them a pretty sum of money for what was an objectively easy job.

"_Mr. Smith, I have some important business to discuss with you,"_ Bruce Hoffman announced, not sounding nearly as calm and collected as he had the first time he'd contacted them. Bryce waited a pointed moment before answering, letting the guy stew in his nerves.

"Mr. Hoffman," he curled his lips in a smile, "I take it that the search for the tapes is not going well on your end." It was a bit of a sore spot that he and his brother hadn't found said tapes in either the car or at the targets home, but that was the way it sometimes worked out. Bryce generally didn't care so long as he was paid in full by the end of the job.

"_You know it isn't otherwise I wouldn't be contacting you,"_ Hoffman snapped and Bryce looked at his brother and shook his head. Clearly the housing commissioner had never expected to run into trouble in all the times he had blackmailed money out of people and he wasn't handling the fallout gracefully. _"I've run into a new problem that I need you to take care of."_ He announced and Bryce flipped the phone onto speaker and laid it on the table. _"The tapes have switched hands and I'm going to need an upgrade in your services."_ Bryce frowned at this and Eric finally meandered over to plunk himself in the armchair beside him.

"What kind of upgrade are you talking about?" he pulled the beer from his brothers hand and took a swig, ignoring the glare he received in return.

"_A man by the name of Daniel Williams has them now. I want him taken out."_

"Taken out?" Bryce glared at the phone in confusion, because he could honestly say he had not expected Hoffman, the perpetual white collar shark, to step up his game so drastically. There must be some kind of catch. "That's a bold move, so I'm going to need you to be a little more specific just so I understand that we're reading from the same book here." There was something about the name, Danny Williams, which sounded familiar. Then his brother reached forward and grabbed the pen and pad of paper they always kept on the table and began scribbling.

"_I want you to kill him and, if it's still possible, recover the tapes he has taken. Is that clear enough for you?"_ their possible repeat customer growled over the line just as Eric slid his message in front of Bryce and jabbed at it with the pen. Bryce frowned.

"He's Stan Edward's wife's ex-husband and the father of their little girl," he said, but something still wasn't adding up.

"_Yes, congratulations on being competent enough to do your research. Now are you in or are you out, because I need this finished sooner rather than later."_

"That's not how it works Hoffman. A little auto theft at gun point and some B and E is no problem, but if you want to step up to assassination then you had better be prepared to pay the price." There was a long silence on the other end of the line and Bryce was just about to hang up, figuring the moron had gotten cold feet, when the guy finally spoke again, sounding more strained then ever.

"_Five hundred thousand. I'll pay half up front and the other half once the job is complete."_ Holy shit. That certainly got his brother's attention, and he sat forward with a hard look on his face.

"What aren't you telling us?" Eric asked, his voice rough from not having spoken yet this day.

"_You've got everything you need to know to make a decision,"_ Hoffman snapped, anger beginning to overtake his nerves but Eric wasn't having that and, frankly, neither was Bryce.

"No, you're leaving something out. You want this Williams guy dead, that's fine, but five hundred? That's a hefty bill for a nobody who grabbed a couple career ending tapes, so I want to know what the price is compensating for and if you don't want to share up front then we walk." There was another long pause, but Bryce had figured out by now that Hoffman was pretty damn desperate, at the point where he was probably finished in the free world whether he followed through on the hit or not. Desperate men did desperate things and Bryce and his brother had no problem capitalizing on that, but they didn't do things blind; that tended to get you killed.

"_He's a cop,"_ Hoffman finally fessed up, and wasn't that the kicker. _"He's been here just over two years and he's threatened to blow my whole operation open. I want him six feet under before he has the chance to blow the whistle. Now are you in or out, because I don't have time to play around here,"_ Hoffman was back to talking tough but Bryce ignored it, focusing instead on his brother, who was frowning in thought.

A cop. They'd killed a few guys in their time, more to settle disputes than anything else, but they had never stretched over to taking out a man in blue. On one hand if they did it and got caught the chances of them surviving either the arrest or the first few months in prison were slim to none. On the other hand if they didn't get caught it would be the boost their underground reputation needed to step up into a higher class of the criminal world. Five hundred thousand could become a more frequent paycheck if they played their cards right.

It was a risky chance. But still, the money was pretty damn good incentive as well. After another moment of staring Eric nodded in agreement and Bryce smiled. It wasn't a nice smile.

"We want seven hundred," he decided and there was a moment of outraged spluttering on the other end of the line before Hoffman agreed, which only made Bryce grin even more. Clearly this guy was both desperate and an amateur, because Eric and he would probably have taken this job for one hell of a lot less than the initial offer. "Get rid of that phone, we'll have a new one in your inbox at the office by tomorrow morning. We expect the first half of the funds to be delivered by the end of the day, the second half delivered after the job is complete."

"_I'll send it to the same account as before," _he agreed and a quick look at Eric told Bryce that that was fine for now. They'd transfer the money into their second offshore account as soon as the job was done.

"Agreed." He ended the call and looked at his brother. "Danny Williams, huh? Shouldn't be too hard to track down."

"I want to swing it to look like it happened while he's on the job," Eric said, flipping the pen between his fingers. "If he's a straight up cop then he's probably already submitted the tapes as evidence against Hoffman. I'd say Hoffman's trying to just keep him from testifying at this point so if we finish it up within a few days we can still get the full payment before his accounts are frozen."

"Agreed. I'll see what I can find," Bryce stood and stretched, cracked his neck, and went to work. Turned out he only had to make one call to figure out that Williams was part of that new crack team that had been taking out some of the island's bigger players in the last year or so. It hadn't been hard to figure out that they were currently working on busting Nelson's gang for running guns between the islands. Nelson was an idiot, and one of his thugs had attacked Bryce's good friend's little sister only the month before. He had no problem making an anonymous tip to crime stoppers, leaking the location of his main supply warehouse and hinting that there might be a shipment of weapons there at the moment.

All he and Eric would have to do at that point was follow the dream team from a discreet distance and wait until the judge finally signed the warrant on the raid.

Simple.

-H5O-

Somehow he should have known when he'd awoken that morning that his day was going to turn as rotten as the pineapple Grace had gifted him with four weeks ago. It had just been another ordinary morning in his not so very ordinary life and he'd been okay with that. Thrilled in fact, because normal mornings meant that it should have been business as usual: go to work, rile Steve up, let Steve aggravate him with his usual unrestrained ways, shoot the shit with Chin and Kono, do a boat load of paperwork, catch some criminals, try and prevent Steve from throwing said criminals out of helicopters under the guise of interrogation, and maybe grab something to eat in between.

A good, typical day at work.

There hadn't been any warning signs, any ominous indicators, the sun had been shining, there wasn't a cloud in the sky and by six am the air had already made good headway into its usual hot and humid overbearingness. Normal. So it stood to reason that he hadn't been expecting his day to turn to crap in such a spectacular fashion. In hindsight that had probably been the biggest warning factor of all.

The crowd on the busy boardwalk flowed by them like water in a riverbed, rushing forward with enthusiastic momentum until they approached the apparent boulder that Danny and his team represented and adjusting their course to swiftly flow past with a decent berth. Tourists and locals alike somehow instinctively knew not to get too close. Danny watched this with mixed feelings as he eyed a man proudly wearing a truly horrendous orange, yellow and purple flowered shirt and manfully suppressed a shudder.

"Hawaiian shirts," he muttered with disdain, "yet another abomination this state has polluted the world with." He ignored the snort of amusement from Kono by pointedly eating a scoop of his blue shave ice and shifting on his feet. She rolled her eyes at him and pointedly looked towards the beach, doing a decent job of pretending she was interested in a loose game of volleyball. Beside her Chin was slouched against the railing, one foot casually resting on a well placed rock as he sipped at his bottle of water and pointedly ignored the group of young women (the very women who had been the reason for the men to start their game of volleyball over on the beach) who kept sending him come hither grins.

Overall Danny figured they were doing a pretty decent job of blending in with the crowd, which was actually not that difficult to do when the other three members of his team oozed the aura of belonging from their every pore. His contentment at the thought wavered some when Steve, who took casual to an entirely new level as he slouched in his cargo's and form-fitting t-shirt on Danny's right, sharply jabbed his elbow into Danny's ribs and glanced his way.

"Look sharp Danny, you've attracted a tourist," he announced with a look that said he was both bemused and annoyed. Danny forced his posture to remain relaxed as he absorbed the warning and looked around. Damn it, this was not what he needed.

"I'm telling you brah, if you loose the tie they won't flock to you like lost ships searching for a fellow foreign beacon," Chin mumbled, humour in his voice even as he tensed slightly on Danny's other side, and smoothly capped his water bottle. Danny's ingrained sense of professionalism bristled at the teasing.

"Last I checked Hawaii was still a state which makes me as much of a countryman as you and furthermore the tie has nothing to do with attracting tourists. My general aura of competence is what draws them in," he snapped back and then finally sighted the tourist Steve had noticed. She was an older woman who seemed to be having no difficulties as she plowed through the crowd with an expression of determination on her face. She boldly walked right at them, dragging a young child in her wake that looked rather put-upon to being yanked around. Her head was tilted slightly, her big eyes squinting from beneath her bright yellow and green visor and true enough her gaze was locked on him like a missile targeting system. It was then that he registered what she looked like and recognition slammed into him with enough force that the breakfast he'd eaten that morning transformed into a vicious ball of acid in his stomach.

"Shit," he swore darkly and only realized he'd said anything aloud when his teammates visually shifted from easy going to DEFCON one in a heartbeat. He watched her approach with dread and forced his posture to remain relaxed with every step that brought her closer, praying that she hadn't actually recognized him despite her very driven approach.

"Down children, she's harmless," he warned softly, ignoring the questioning look Steve was giving him even as they followed his lead and readopted their easygoing casualness just as she pulled to a stop before him. Danny doubted it would have mattered how relaxed his team appeared in that moment as all her attention was focused solely on him. He resisted the urge to turn tail and run, his whole body flooding with a chill that had no place under the oppressive heat of the day.

"Oh my, it is you!" She exclaimed joyfully and he barely refrained from cringing. "Why, aren't you a sight for sore eyes," she braced her hands on her generous hips and met his eyes with a big toothy grin before looking him quickly up and down. "Little Daniel! My, I think you're still the same height you were the last time I saw you. Though I will say, you have filled out nicely," she enthused with an exuberance that he remembered like it was yesterday. He couldn't begin to describe how glad he was that she didn't try to hug him.

"Mrs. Rickwood," he nodded at her politely and ignored Steve's amused smirk at her blatant dig at his height. He could deal with that kind of ribbing, what he didn't want to deal with were the possible ramifications of the conversation about to take place. And there would be ramifications, a whole train load of them he was sure.

"Oh come now, we're all adults here! You can call me Jenny," she swiftly insisted and he tried on a thin smile for appearances sake. She cast a quick glance at the rest of the team as though noticing them for the first time before focusing upon him again with that same relentlessness he remembered as a child. "Sam and I just rolled in yesterday afternoon," she offered without prompting, "the kids sprung this surprise trip on us for our anniversary and I just about died," she fanned herself with a well-manicured hand and Danny looked down at the child that was staring up at Chin with unblinking eyes. He quickly looked back at Mrs. Rickwood. "But enough about me, how long are you in this delightful paradise for? Are you hear on a work related trip?" She looked at his tie briefly and if Danny hadn't been so sick inside he would have shot Steve a dirty look for the indelicate snort he let loose.

"I'm here indefinitely," he answered shortly, hoping she'd take the hint and be on her way, which of course she didn't if her lighthearted chuckle was anything to go by.

"Oh, you haven't changed much," she enthused. "He was always a quiet little thing as a boy. I could barely get two sentences out of him in an entire week," she added with a conspiratorial wink at Kono before his words finally seemed to register in her excited little mind. "Indefinitely? You mean to say you live here now? You must have done something right in your life to manage this."

"I moved," he nearly growled and crossed his arms tightly over his chest, coming dangerously close to spilling shave ice all down his shirt. "Wasn't that hard."

"I suppose not, but it _is_ nice to see you looking so well after everything. Sam and I had worried about where you might have gone after you left our care. Broke our heart it did but there wasn't much we could do about it at the time, what with how The System works." He very nearly crushed the frigid cup in his hand. She meant well, he knew she did but her words, her complete lack of tact, hell her entire existence grated him the wrong way and sent his nerves into overdrive.

"This is Jillian," she beamed and reached out for the kid that, by that moment, had moved on to staring up at Steve with wonder. "Martin's little girl and my granddaughter," she introduced proudly. Danny was really happy for her, seriously, he was just tickled all kinds of thrilled. He wanted to pull away from this entire conversation but the damn railing was at his back and he was hedged in by his teammates who had stopped looking so amused several words back and were now giving him looks that were at different stages of figuring out how exactly _not_ happy Danny was at that precise moment.

"She's beautiful," he managed, because it was true and he pulled a brief smile out just for Jillian before looking back to Mrs. Rickwood, who finally seemed to be letting her brain catch up with her mouth if her slightly widening eyes were any indication. He could see the moment she finally recognized that maybe he wasn't as enthusiastic about this meeting as she was, which might be unfair of him but he was only human and he was sure she'd get over it. She had before.

"Well, it is lovely to know you're safe and happy," she nodded knowingly, as if she had _any_ idea about his life whatsoever. He didn't even bother to respond to that, just nodded tightly in agreement and willed her to move on already. "I do hope you keep taking such good care of yourself. Sam will be glad to know how well you're doing," she announced, her gaze roaming to Steve, who must have been wearing a fierce expression because she was gone seconds later, dragging Jillian behind her and glancing over her shoulder at them no less than three times as she went.

Danny did not deflate in relief at her retreat; he remained frozen in place as he prepared for the impact of this piece of his past finally mixing with his present. It was a long moment of tense silence while he refused to look at his teammates, but he could feel them exchanging a silent conversation around him. Finally Steve took another spoon from what remained of his shaved ice, no doubt fortifying his courage, before sidling slightly closer so that his elbow brushed against Danny's.

"So…that was Mrs. Rickwood," he started with the most obvious thing in the world and Danny's sudden headache intensified ten fold. He wanted to go hide under a rock a pretend that this had not just happened.

"You heard that, did you? How observant," he snapped. He couldn't help it, but Steve was more than versed to his temper by now and completely ignored both Danny's tone and silent warning to leave it alone.

"Mrs. Rickwood from the system," he announced carefully, "as in the foster system?" And there went another part of his carefully obscured past up in smoke. Poof. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before figuring to hell with it! He liked to keep his private life private, who didn't? But the cat was out of the bag and now he needed to focus on damage control. Damage control in the sense of answering questions in a way that would not have his team of highly intelligent, inquisitive, and resourceful individuals trying to dig up more of his history than he wanted aired. Some things were meant to remain in the dark.

"Yes, as in the foster system," he shook his head and unclenched his arms before looking to Steve and then Chin and Kono in turn. They all had these ridiculous looks on their faces, like they didn't know if they should be supportive or just drop the subject altogether. It would be sweet, if he was a teenage girl and her first boyfriend had just dumped her on the day of prom. "As in the foster system that I was a part of for the majority of my elder childhood years," he explained and at their pained expressions he grew irritated. "Look, can we stop with the faces and the empathy and just leave it at this?"

"Who's Rickwood?" Steve ignored his plea, as expected, and Danny glared up at him with irritation that was mostly based on his inability to refuse answering any of Steve's questions, ever. The man's piercing gaze just ripped answers from him. It was unholy.

"She was my first foster family. I stayed with her for about half a year." He tried to hide the bitterness in his tone, but at the sharp look the SEAL was giving him he hadn't done a very good job of it.

"And Martin?" Steve persisted, just like he always did when he wanted to know something, and of course Danny would answer, because apparently in the last year and a bit that he'd been the guys partner he had become an idiot.

"Martin was the kid they bumped me for, the one they were waiting to adopt." They fell silent again and he rolled his eyes, really laying it on thick for them. "It was a _long_ time ago people, can we let it go please? I understand this might be a bit of a shock for you but we are actually working right now. Working, as in that thing we do to pay the bills and make the world a safer place for our children."

And like magic Steve's phone rang, loud enough that several individuals moving by them reached to check their own phones. Steve, of course, made absolutely no move to reach for his. Chin and Kono looked back and forth between them while Danny blanked his expression as best he could and stared the navy seal down. Or at least tried to, but winning a staring contest with Steve McGarrett was virtually impossible, the man could outstare a lizard and looked twice as creepy while doing it.

"You gonna get that, could be important," Danny gestured with the hand holding his practically melted treat, only then realizing his arms had been crossed. Steve finally blinked, gave him a look that promised Danny he wasn't done with him yet, and snatched the phone from his pocket.

"McGarrett," he listened intently for a moment and then his eyebrows straightened out from their furrow. He jerked his head in the direction of their vehicles and began heading for the parking lot, snapping the phone shut only a moment later.

"Warrant came through for the factory," he announced and Danny was almost relieved by what this meant.

"Wonderful, at least this time I know we're going to have back-up," he smirked at Chin and received an amused little grin in return, which did more to drag him away from his previously defensive mood than the halt of Stevie Wonder's impromptu interrogation.

"We always have back-up," Steve tossed a little frown over his shoulder and Danny shook his head, flipping the rest of his drink into a garbage can as they approached his Camaro.

"No," he said slowly, hoping it would help emphasize his point, "what we always have is me trying to talk you into _waiting_ for backup while Chin and Kono are only five minutes away."

"Whine, whine, whine," Steve muttered and then he hesitated, an honest to god pause when he finally reached the gleaming silver car, before he moved swiftly to the passenger side. It was enough to give Danny his own pause and Chin gave his shoulder a quick squeeze that somehow managed to convey both support and the promise of world peace before he and Kono sped off to their own vehicle. "We're not in England Danny, I actually need you to get behind the wheel before I can go anywhere," Steve called just as he slammed the door shut. Danny made a point of taking his time to get to the drivers side, pointedly adjusting his seat, buckling his belt, and adjusting the mirror before he finally started the car and pulled into traffic. They'd already waited three days for this warrant (they had sketchy evidence to begin with and he was actually surprised they got the warrant at all), a few more minutes wouldn't hurt.

Steve was practically vibrating with tension from the passenger seat, his body still and ready to strike and he kept tossing darting little glances at Danny as he maneuvered through the traffic. Of course Danny figured that the act of actually letting him drive was as much of a peace offering as he was going to get from Steve after the little confrontation at the beach, so he was a little surprised when, after five whole minutes of edgy silence, Steve cleared his throat.

"If I-" he hesitated, his face scrunching up in that pained, uncomfortable look he got when he wanted to say something he felt was important but was slightly unsure of himself. Danny had only seen that face twice before and it made him roll his shoulders in preparation for what was to come. "If I was being insensitive back there-" he paused again, but this time because Danny had barked out a little laugh.

"Insensitive? By which you mean when you started interrogating me about my very personal history right after a very awkward and unwanted blast from the past?" He glared at the pedestrian walking across the road in front of them. Checking the rear view mirror he could see Kono and Chin practically kissing his bumper.

"I wouldn't say interrogating-" Steve started up.

"Or the part where you asked said personal questions in front of my fellow coworkers?" Danny interrupted

"Friends," Steve declared quietly but pointedly enough that it could have been a roar. "And yes, to all of the above," he squirmed a bit and then shook his head at himself. "I get focused and…it was information that took me by surprise. I don't like not knowing things," he added petulantly and Danny shook his head in exasperation.

"What are you? Ten years old? Nobody likes not knowing things, but they, and by _they_ I mean the rest of the human race, have a little more appreciation for both privacy and social etiquette than you and generally use this knowledge as a guideline for standard communication," Danny waved a hand about for emphasis, but whatever unease he had felt from the questions earlier was already evaporating. He was upset with Steve no less than five times on an average day, so he generally reserved holding grudges for the really important things: like getting shot at because Steve thought that Danny and a bullet resistant vest equaled appropriate back-up when laying siege on arms dealers. He checked his rearview again to see that Kono was still following close behind, maybe a little too close for comfort but there all the same.

"So what you're saying is that because you don't consider me on par with the _rest_ of the human race I can get away with pretty much anything," Steve seemed overtly pleased by this if his twitching lips were anything to go by.

"No, that's what _you're_ saying. _I'm _saying you're an idiot with compulsive issues."

"Is that your final prognosis, Doc? Cause I gotta say I think I'll need a second opinion," and like always Steve just didn't seem to be affected by anything Danny had to say.

"I'll give you a second and third opinion," he muttered darkly and Steve leaned forward and turned up the volume on the radio.

"What?" He cupped a hand around an ear and looked apologetically at Danny. "I can't hear you!"

Danny spent the rest of the ride pretending he was the only person in his car.

-H5O-

"You know what the really sad thing about my life is right now?" Danny swore and then popped out from behind the shiny black suburban he and Steve were using for cover to fire off a few bullets before ducking back down and glaring at the three unconscious, cuffed men heaped at their feet.

"No idea, Danny," Steven McGarrett, the navy seal bane of his existence, responded with an insulting amount of disinterest as he swiftly stood and fired a few rounds of his own at the two remaining gunrunners before dropping back under cover. "Please enlighten me."

"I am sensing a distinct lack of concern coming from your end of this partnership," Danny growled. Steve sent a mildly irritated look his way, which Danny missed as he was reaching around and firing a few more rounds at the hostiles. The two men with an apparently never ending supply of ammunition were getting closer and closer to the factory's wide open loading doors. They had clearly done this before as they were managing to make good distance while holding Danny's entire team in place.

"No really, I'm concerned, tell me all about your sad life and maybe later we can get some mani-pedis and rent Legally Blonde."

"You're overwhelming me with sympathy right now," Danny calculated that the trigger happy hostiles would reach the doors in another minute maybe, unless they decided to just break cover and run, in which case it would be ten seconds or so. He tensed in preparation. "And I prefer Sleepless in Seattle, but the reason-" Danny flinched when the last bit of the rear window's remaining glass crumbled onto his shoulder. "The reason that I live such a sad, sad life is because when I rolled out of bed this morning I _expected_ to have bullets flying in my direction at least once today!" He declared pointedly.

"That's a problem?" Steve spared him a quick glance before peeking around to check on Chin and Kono, who were crouching down behind a forklift forty feet to their left. A bullet shattered the glass in the last remaining driver side window and Steve ducked back down with a frown.

"Ignoring the fact that you apparently _don't_ think it is, it clearly shows that insanity is contagious. Otherwise I would have transferred back to the HPD the very same day you hijacked me into joining your little super-squad where I would have only, maybe, been shot at once every eight years or so. But that's not my point-"

"I figured you'd probably get to that sometime tomorrow," Steve sent some hand signals at Chin and Kono while Danny fired the last of his clip at his targets, hitting nothing but the massive crate they had ducked behind and the giant corrugated wall beyond. Little holes of light were shining through in about a dozen places, the sunbeams reflecting off the dust motes flying around. At another moment in time it might have been pretty, if one liked that sort of thing.

"The point is that I need to be institutionalized because I wake up expecting to get shot at, five times out of ten this expectation is turned into reality, and I still come into work everyday. On time," he tagged on, because punctuality had always been important to him. "I want a raise."

"I'll take it under advisement," Steve responded as expected, "They're almost out of bullets, down to the last extra mag that they had on them," because of course Steve had seen this in the split second they'd had between restraining the first group of unconscious men and then diving for cover when these last two yahoos popped out of the woodwork.

"And of course you've been counting bullets," Danny muttered and pretended he didn't see the 'what? You haven't been?' look Steve gifted him with. Instead he braced himself for the final push, knowing that it was coming. The adrenalin sang through his veins and pounded in his ears and he waited patiently for Steve's signal to attack. The man had that intense, assessing look on his face that he always adopted in the heat of a battle. It was the look that reminded Danny again and again of why he didn't leave this team for a safer position with the HPD. Danny instinctively trusted that look, even if to a lesser man it would be as intimidating as hell.

He saw the moment Steve made the decision to move, when the bullets from the opposition were coming from just the one guy and were sporadic enough that it screamed they only had a few shots left. So of course that was when things went squirrely, and not in a good way.

The men they were trying to apprehend were only ten feet from the massive bay doors, using the few large crates left as a last ditch cover before they made a run for it. That was when Danny heard the unmistakably startled cry of a woman. A woman who should very much not be there but was undeniably present as both gunmen stepped out from their cover. The one with the still loaded gun had her back pressed into his chest and a thick arm around her neck holding her in place. Her wide terrified eyes tearing up in terror as she clutched at the man waving the gun in front of her face.

Taking in her attire Danny realized she must have been one of the warehouses employees who had taken cover when the bullets started flying. They hadn't realized they'd missed anyone.

"Stay back or I'll shoot her!" The gunman threatened, his panic clear as his partner fell into step just behind him and the girl. He used them both as shields as he began guiding them backwards out the door.

"Let her go," Steve ordered firmly, looking over to make sure Chin and Kono were still where they'd been ten seconds before. "You haven't killed anyone yet and you do not want to graduate to that level! She's innocent." He tried to appeal to whatever might be remaining of the criminal's morals and for a moment Danny was so proud of Steve for actually making an attempt at negotiation, as opposed to just shooting them first. Then he recognized that it was an impossible shot to make from this angle, unless Steve took out the hostage as well, which was generally bad for business. "There's no need to drag her into this!" Of course they were just assuming she was innocent, what with working at a place where smuggling was apparently a fairly regular thing. Danny was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt what with the very real fear on her face.

Predictably their answer was to fire another bullet at them the moment Steve stood up and then used the distraction to hustle out the door and out of sight. Danny's team surged up from behind the vehicles and moved swiftly to the door the moment the gunmen and hostage disappeared. Chin got there first, Kono pressing against the wall at his side as he quickly stuck his head around the wall and pulled back.

"They still have her and they're moving fast," he told them which was all the encouragement Steve needed to slip right past him and out into the wide open docking bay. Danny swore and chased him out onto the raised platform, scanning the opposite direction of where the idiots and their hostage had gone just to make sure no one would be sneaking up on them. Aside from the grouping of industrial sized garbage bins, a row of stacked broken crates and wooden skids and the wall of the building opposite there was nothing of interest to note and no sign of danger. The sharp retort of a gun shot echoing around the docking bay had him twisting around and crouching slightly.

"Kono! Keep an eye on the guys inside!" Chin ordered and Danny saw her nod and duck back through the bay door from his peripheral vision, not willing to take his eyes off the scene before him.

Instead of jumping down to the ground level immediately the men had moved along the upper pathway that was designed for large trucks to back into for deliveries, dragging their victim along with them. She was desperately grabbing onto the thick arm wrapped around her throat for balance as she tried to keep pace and keep her feet under her. The man holding her had fired the shot, just missing Steve who didn't even flinch as it zinged past and through the wall beside his head. Instead their leader began stalking after dangerous perps, his weapon raised steadily in front of him as he kept them solidly in his sights. Danny, sharing a quick look with Chin, moved quickly to the edge of the docking platform, crouched down and jumped off. He landed well, his bad knee only twinging a little as his feet hit the ground and he shifted as close to the chest high cement platform as possible. He moved forward quickly to match Steve's pace, his weapon raised and trained on the group.

The man holding the girl saw this and apparently didn't agree with their methods. He retrained his weapon on Danny and fired and Danny thanked his lucky stars the guy couldn't seem to hit the broad side of a barn as the bullet hit the pavement ten feet to his side. The hollow clicking that came next as he tried to re-aim at McGarrett was music to Danny's rather cultured ears. _Gotcha_ Danny thought darkly.

"He's out of bullets," he announced unnecessarily since Steve had picked up his pace the moment the gunman's eyes had gone wide in dismay.

Predictably the bad guys panicked and, like all self-respecting citizens who had decided to make a living by hurting others, launched her bodily off the dock and took off. She shrieked as she sailed through the air, her arms pin wheeling wildly, before hitting the pavement with a painful sounding crunch.

The moment this happened the team let up on the last of the brakes, snapping forward in a rush Steve and Chin sprinted to the end of the platform and leapt through the air to hit the level ground. They didn't spare a second glance at the hostage, intent on getting the bastards that already had a short lead and were rounding the corner at the far end of the building.

Of course they were able to do that as Danny had already been rushing to the woman's side. On a good day Danny could keep up with his teammates, but he was under no illusions about being the slowest sprinter of this trio and right now his role was better served helping the downed woman. He also had no doubt that Steve and Chin would get the guys and, for once, no real worry as their prey was now unarmed. Without his team's safety to distract him he fell to his knees beside the woman, ignoring his bodies protest as he did so and noting the sirens off in the distance. She lay half on her stomach, one arm outstretched above her head and the other tucked awkwardly beneath her chest. Her dark hair tumbled from its ponytail and he could see heavy bruising creeping across her forehead.

"Hey, hey there. I need you to talk to me now, can you hear me? You okay?" He knew it was a stupid question, of course she wasn't okay, but he really needed a response. The best he got was a groan. He frowned, his fingers twitched responsively and a the familiar tingling heat began to build within his chest as he looked her over. He resisted rolling her onto her back for fear of aggravating a spinal injury but it was really impeding his ability to see her face.

"Come on now, I need you to respond to me here, tell me how you're doing," he demanded and was satisfied when her visible eye fluttered open, wide and pained and she cried out as she instinctively tried to curl up.

"Easy, easy, you're safe now, I've got you," he lowered his voice, trying to sound as sincere as possible and moved his hands to gently hold her in place as she began to struggle to sit up. Tears trailed down her cheek and she was having difficulty focusing her eyes. It looked bad, really bad, and the bruising across her forehead was livid. "Hey, you need to stay still, okay? Nobody else is going to hurt you but you shouldn't move." His senses were telling me that she was only going to get worse as he tried to get her attention. He wasn't surprised when her already pale skin bleached even further due to shock.

"Shit shit shit," he muttered as her eyes rolled back in her head and she began seizing, her limbs flopping around and legs twitching. He placed a hand under her cheek to try and protect from further injury and took a deep breath. This was really not good, he wasn't exactly trained beyond basic first aid, which in his darker, private moments amused him to no end, but he knew this was bad. Possible brain hemorrhaging and soon to die bad. He could feel the truth of this, could sense that this was it for her, the last fight before her long goodnight and the pressure that had been building within his chest began banging for attention as his instincts reacted to seeing someone hurt, in pain, dying. It was always like this, even for something as minor as a damn paper cut his hands would start tingling and reaching out of their own volition. Normally he would acknowledge the feeling and then shove the instinct aside with ruthless control. Today he let it come. He let the energy build within and didn't force it down.

He couldn't let her die, she didn't deserve this, she was just a victim in one of their own stings. It wasn't right.

She was still seizing, shaking uncontrollably under his hands and he looked up to see that Steve and Chin had not come back around the corner yet; Kono was still inside. The coast was clear. He brought the hand that wasn't cushioning her skull up and laid it gently over her forehead, right on bruised and scraped skin, and took a deep, steadying breath. He focused on the warmth that had become almost overwhelming within his chest and then pushed it, like a rushing tide, up through his arms, into his hands, out his fingers and let the energy sink deep within her skin.

His hands did not glow, there were no sparks or divine lights singing around them, just the warm gray of the old, cracked asphalt and the bright scarlet of her work shirt. Almost immediately she stopped thrashing, her limbs stilling to rest on the ground, her deathly white skin began to transform back into its lovely olive hue. He looked her over carefully, keeping his hands in place, noting that the obvious swelling and flushed red skin on her right arm was retreating, shrinking back to its natural size and colour until nothing of the previously fractured limb remained. He kept sending the energy into her, willing her to heal. Another five seconds, ten, and something within him flipped and told him it was time to stop. She was healed, done, everything within her was as it should be, and he sank back to sit on his heels and dropped his head for a long moment, taking a few deep breaths to steady himself and regroup. The warmth within him retreated as soon as it was no longer needed, leaving him with his normal temperature and his rapid heartbeat falling back into acceptable parameters.

He felt drained. If there was one thing he remembered from the few times he'd used this gift it was that he always felt so drained afterwards.

He opened his eyes to see that her own deep brown irises' were gazing up at him sleepily. He smiled and pulled his hand away from her forehead, the skin beneath it healed and unblemished but for a smear of still wet blood from where her flesh had scraped. He reached out and wiped it away with his thumb and then wiped his own hand on his pants. That morning he had cursed how badly he needed to do laundry, having only black pants to wear in the sweltering heat of Hawai'i, but now he was thankful as it easily hid the coppery fluid. He helped her sit up, no longer afraid of damaging her.

"Hey there," he said softly as she blinked at him before looking around, her eyes widening in alarm. "It's okay, you're okay," he soothed, steadying her. "I'm Detective Williams with Five-0. You're safe with me," she relaxed a little at that though he doubted she knew what the Five-0 actually was. "Can you tell me your name?"

"Anani Palakiko," she replied, reaching a hand up to probe her forehead and looking confused when it didn't hurt. "I thought… I thought I was hurt," she looked at the raised delivery platform looming solidly before them and then to work shoe clad feet, trying to put together the facts. It was generally like this after the few times he had helped someone who wasn't his Grace; they were always confused and tired and he never felt the slightest bit guilty when he manipulated that to its fullest and began helping her to her feet.

"No Anani, you're understandably a little dazed from the fall, but it doesn't look like you're hurt anywhere. You're one lucky lady," he smiled kindly but was distracted when he thought he heard something coming from behind him. Turning, his hand travelling to his holstered weapon, he scanned the area but there was nothing to see. He frowned. He could have sworn it sounded like footsteps, a sort of rushed shuffling. Before he could turn his full attention back on his victim Kono emerged from the bay door, three trussed up and pathetic looking thugs trudging morosely before her as she herded them out. That explained the suspicious sound and he relaxed a little more. She spotted Danny, a quick look taking in the scene about him before deciding that everything was okay and a smile that rivaled the sun beamed across her face.

It was always disconcerting to see that smile when she had a gun in her hand.

"You guys okay?" She asked lightly as her group approached and he nodded, keeping his hand on his weapon just incase their prisoners decided to try anything.

"Just fine. Miss Palakiko took a little involuntary dive onto the ground here but she seems to be in full working order," he gave her a comforting smile that she returned faintly.

"Glad to hear it. The Boss and Chin have the last of this group around the corner and the squad cars are just pulling in," she announced between directing her own prisoners to sit on the platform and then shove off to join Danny on the ground before joining them herself. Like a pro she had them marching in front, apparently not needing to warn them about trying to run off, and she gave Danny a closer look as he guided Anani along. "You okay Danny? You're looking a little pale," she pointed out not unkindly.

"It's nothing, just didn't hydrate enough this morning is all. Nothing a bottle of water won't fix," he lied with practiced ease, feeling only slightly guilty when she bought it hook, line and sinker.

He kept a steadying hand on Anani, watching her from the corner of his eye. She was healthy and walking and looking nothing more than exhausted and emotionally traumatized. She would probably fall asleep the moment she sat back down, before then if they kept her standing around for too long, and he didn't regret the risk he'd taken for a moment.

He never did.

As they rounded the corner and finally came upon Steve and Chin, healthy and whole and looking very pleased with themselves as they loomed over the secured men at their feet, they didn't notice a metal door on the opposite warehouse closing quietly.

They didn't hear the car that started up on the next street over and quickly pull away.

They didn't notice the folder that had Danny Williams picture in it being folded up and shoved into the glove compartment, along with the gun and silencer that were unceremoniously shoved on top.

-H5O-

They had one weapon with a silencer and it belonged to Eric. He gripped it fondly as they tailed Williams and his team from the boardwalk and when it became clear where the group was headed they parked a street away from the warehouse. Moving swiftly they edged to the corner of the building they were using as cover and peered around to see the four cops pulling on their kevlar and checking their weapons. Bryce had honestly been surprised when bullets had started flying only minutes after they moved into Nelson's hideout. He hadn't expected the gunfight that erupted to happen so damn fast! Their plan had been to sneak into the warehouse behind the police team, find a suitable place to duck down, get their sights on the target and take Williams out when the inevitable shit hit the fan: Nelson and his crew had a reputation for not going down quietly, and apparently Five-O didn't take no for an answer.

"We can't go in that way," Eric decided and glared at the echoing retort of gunshots before turning and moving swiftly to the space between the two giant buildings. "If they come out of the building in pursuit then they'll probably come out the docking bay," and sure enough that was exactly what happened a good five minutes later. They hid behind one of the large dumpsters, the stink of garbage rotting in the heat wafting over them, and they waited. There was a lull in the gunfire and two men appeared dragging a woman out of the warehouse and waving a gun around. The military guy, McGarrett, was on them only a moment later, moving with a cat like swiftness that impressed Bryce even though he hated the police on principal. It was barely a moment later that Williams barged out after him and they barely had time to duck down behind the dumpster as the short haole first looked in their direction to make sure it was clear.

From one moment to the next the entire team split up and the only person left in the space between the warehouses was the woman and Williams himself. It was almost too good to be true and Bryce shared an incredulous look with his brother before they began to move out and approach the blonde detective from behind. He didn't notice them, clearly too distracted by the injured woman. She started seizing just as they pulled up close enough to take him out easily, one or two bullets to the back should do it. Eric raised the gun…and hesitated.

Bryce nudged him warningly; trying to get him to finish the job already because crazy ass McGarrett and the rest of the team could reappear at any moment, but instead of pulling the trigger Eric slowly lowered the gun. Bryce glared at him and made to take it when Eric shook his head sharply and jabbed a finger at Williams' hovering form. Bryce looked, a lifetime of working together warning him to take the suggestion seriously.

Turns out not shooting the detective just might turn into the greatest idea of their lives.

Detective Williams was in the process of healing the woman in his arms. With nothing more than the touch of his hands.

They were close enough to physically see the swollen, red flesh of her obviously broken arm reduce to normal size and pigment. Her previously glazed eyes, wandering and vacant, were now clear and pain free. He knew what he was seeing, he also knew he was a bit too stunned to fully comprehend it but he didn't resist when Eric gripped his shoulder and quickly hustled him back behind the dumpster. Eric carefully reengaged the safety and tucked his favourite weapon into the waistband of his pants. They looked at each other, Bryce with disbelief and Eric with a gleam of excitement that he hadn't seen in a long, long time. One thing was undoubtedly clear to them both however: Detective Williams had somehow healed that woman back to what looked like perfect health.

It was…it was hard to believe, but they'd seen it. Bryce's lips twitched and curled into a smile as he caught onto why his brother looked so freaking ecstatic.

What they had here was a man that could heal. By the looks of it he could heal anything. Of course they would have to figure out a way to test this, make sure it wasn't a one off thing, but judging by the way Williams lied so easily to his female partner only moments later Bryce was willing to bet the man had healed before. Maybe even frequently.

People paid a lot of money for their health. Ridiculous amounts of money. Far more money than a one off lump sum for an assassination would pay.

Far, far more.

There was no way in hell he and his brother could pass up an opportunity like this. They retreated quietly to their car once the coast was clear and drove away in silence.

They had some plans to make.

-H5O-

Steve moved from his desk to his office doorway and leaned lightly against the frame. The atmosphere of the office was as complex as it always felt after the end of a case, and this had been one of those cases that had turned abruptly sideways and then spun around a few times just for the hell of it. They been trying to nail Nelson and his crew on and off for a few months but it had only been a few days ago that a sketchy anonymous tip came in that finally pushed the judge into signing off on a warrant.

The ensuing gunfight had always been a possibility, especially considering Nelson's product of choice, but that didn't mean that it was Steve's preferred way to end a case, no matter what Danny posited. The added hostage situation had definitely not been a scenario Steve had thought they'd have to deal with when they'd stormed the warehouse that was supposed to be closed for the day. He was still battling the occasional tremor that came with the adrenalin dump he typically experienced in those situations. It was cases like these that made him truly appreciate the adaptability of his team.

Steve watched Chin for a moment as the man flipped through files on his touch screen computer table. Chin looked up and met his eyes almost immediately, a stern look explaining that there were no emotional traumas he needed help with after the shooting and even though Steve had already known this was the case he'd felt better with the confirmation. Chin gave a knowing little half smile and nod and then looked over to Kono when the sound of chairs scraping across the floor demanded their attention.

Kono stood swiftly from the conference table she'd been working at and smiled warmly at Anani Palakiko and the young woman's rather large father. He was glad to see she was finally finished taking the young woman's statement and she looked over at him and gave a little nod. He recognized the summons immediately and pushed away from his doorframe.

"We're all finished," Kono announced as he swiftly moved beside her and Steve hoped he looked sincere as he produced a business card from his pocket, glad he'd had the foresight to grab it earlier, and handed it to the young woman.

"Thank you for taking the time to give your statement today," he said softly and Anani smiled weakly at him, clearly at the end of her rope for the morning. "What you went through wasn't easy, so if you need someone to talk to about it, someone who might understand what you experienced," he shared a look with her father to convey that he wasn't trying to overstep his bounds or insult his support in any way, "then please give this woman a call."

"Thank you," she said softly, palming the tiny square of paper and looking around the room. "Is Detective Williams still here?" She asked hopefully as Danny popped through the doorway behind them just in time to hear the question. He had the massive mug that Grace had given him for father's day clutched tightly in his hand and he quickly shook his head negatively before ducking swiftly back into the break room to hide. Steve resisted rolling his eyes and shook his head apologetically at her.

"No, he had to step out. Is there a message I can pass on?"

"That's all right," she shook her head and her exhaustion that had clung to her since the warehouse finally seemed to be overwhelming her. "Thank you for helping me," she said by way of parting and didn't resist as her father led her out of their office to disappear down the hall. Danny appeared a second later, looking pale and exhausted himself and cradling his steaming mug of coffee close.

Steve hid his concern as best he could, because Danny rarely responded well to questions about his health and while that normally wouldn't deter Steve he felt he had to prove that he could actually be discreet when it was appropriate. When he chose to be. Their conversation before the warehouse ordeal still weighed heavily on his shoulders, right alongside the crater left by the bomb that had exploded about Danny's upbringing in freaking foster care! Steve was self aware enough to know that the main reason he had launched into questions about Danny being in the system right then and there had been in part because Kono and Chin were also equally stunned and clearly wanted to understand more. The bigger reasoning behind his immediate push for answers was because he personally felt that it shouldn't have taken a year and a half to learn this rather large fact about his friend. It had hurt his feelings, his tough manly feelings, but feelings all the same.

He just figured that after everything they'd been through together, after the personal things Danny knew about him, and the fact that his partner was rarely quiet for longer than two minutes, it would have been something that came up before a chance meeting with Rickwood had dragged it into the light. It had been a bit of a slap in the face.

Still, Steve could be tactful and subtle when he wanted despite what Danny seemed to believe and he proved that now by not pointing out how Danny looked even worse than Anani. He was pale and his whole body kind of sagged in exhaustion and Steve really wanted to lay a hand on the guys forehead to see if he was coming down with a fever or something. He resisted because he was pretty sure Danny would bitch-glare him into next week. Besides, he wasn't the only outspoken member of this hardheaded team.

"You look like crap Brah," Kono announced for Steve, crossing her arms as she looked Danny over critically and Danny leveled the expected glare at her.

"Please, stop, or you'll damage my delicate self-esteem," Danny punctuated his statement by taking a pointed drink of his no doubt still scalding coffee and leaning a hip against the table. Chin materialized beside them soundlessly and eyed the mug in a way that had Danny holding it more protectively against this chest.

"We all finished with the paperwork?" Steve cut in before she could dig further and pretended he didn't see the grateful look Danny sent his way or the knowing look from Chin.

"I just need to proof it and then you can sign off on it," their rookie answered first. "Miss Palakiko gave a solid statement, it should hold up in court."

"The forensics crew going over the warehouse will be a few days yet, but once they confirm our own statements things will be finished on my end as well," Chin explained and they looked to Danny, who only seemed to be half paying attention to the conversation as he stared out the large window on the opposite end of the room. For once he didn't look like he was going to jump in and add his two cents and then some. Steve frowned, looking him over closer in case he'd missed an injury or something. It wasn't like Danny to hide it when he was injured, especially not when he believed it was the fault of someone else, but he was apparently better at keeping things close to the vest than Steve had thought.

"I'm just glad Anani wasn't hurt," Kono filled the momentary silence for them, looking to Steve for direction and he nodded in agreement.

"I could have sworn she'd smacked her head when she hit the ground," he thought out loud. It was the one thing that didn't make sense to him out of this entire day and Chin nodded beside him, his sharp features pulled into a contemplative frown.

"She didn't have a single bruise," he agreed, "it's unusual." The comment seemed to snap Danny back from wherever his mind had drifted off to and he looked quickly between them before shrugging.

"Some people just don't bruise easy," he decided with finality and then looked at Steve. "Man, I am wrecked and I have to take Gracie to her surfing lessons in a few hours. You mind if I cut out early and finish the paperwork tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sure man," Steve agreed instantly, relieved that Danny had asked instead of having to order him to head home and get some rest. "You need a lift?"

"Nah I'm good," Danny gave him a tired, grateful look. "See you in the morning." He left to a chorus of goodbyes and Kono practically sprinted for the break room to get at the still fresh coffee. Steve watched Danny disappear down the hall, trying not to look overly concerned and apparently failing when Chin shifted beside him.

"He'll be fine, Brah. Today was a heavy day for him, he just needs some time to adjust to us knowing more about him."

"For all his talk he really doesn't say much," Steve shook his head wondering at the skill and Chin snorted.

"He just says it loudly."

"I still could have sworn Palakiko took a header when she was tossed," he swung back to the issue of the clearly uninjured woman, because there was something about the whole situation that was pinging in his gut, telling him he was missing something. He looked towards Danny's office and noted that Danny hadn't even bothered to shut off his computer. It was out of character enough for his sometimes anal retentive partner that it worried him a little more. Maybe he'd drop in on the surfing lesson later and check up on him; he could always say it was coincidental that they ended up at the same beach. Danny wouldn't believe him of course, but that had never held Steve back before.

"It wasn't a smooth landing," Chin agreed, recapturing Steve's attention and he looked at the shorter man, hesitating a moment before deciding to just say what was on his mind.

"You think we're missing something here?" He knew he was frowning as he asked and he was only slightly comforted when Chin gave an agreeing nod because the look that chased the agreement clearly stated that he had no idea what it could possibly be. Of course his next statement, the only one he could really give, countered his agreement.

"It's pretty straight forward," Chin shrugged after a moment. "I don't think there's anything left to worry about," and then he nodded his head towards Danny's office. "I'm gonna go close up for him." Steve watched him move swiftly into the glass walled room and sit behind Danny's desk, briefly looking over the picture of Grace before setting to work.

Kono came out of the break room and gave Steve an assessing look before wordlessly going back to work and Steve wondered when he had become so transparent that his team, hell his employee's, could so easily read his moods. He never would have dropped his guard this much in the Seals. He'd barely dropped it this much since his mom had died.

He looked down the hallway where Danny had retreated minutes before and shook his head in irritation. He was being ridiculous, trying to ferret out an explanation for a gut feeling that was based on precisely nothing. He didn't even know what he was looking for. He was just worried about his partner.

He'd still drop in on Danny later though, just in case. With that in mind he marched back to his office. Chin was parked behind Danny's desk but he was staring at the picture of Danny's little girl as opposed to the computer he was supposed to be shutting down. Steve passed by silently, knowing Chin would work out what he needed to in his own time, like they all did.

With a sigh he slid back behind his own desk and spent the next few hours pretending to get something done.

Tbc.


	3. Fall Into Place

CHAPTER 2: Fall Into Place

-H5O-

It was a few weeks later when Kono's leg just crumpled under her and she went down with a sharp grunt of pain and wide, pissed off eyes. Chin was crouched beside her almost instantly and was looking her over with that dark gaze that saw everything and usually gave nothing back. This time worry and guilt were all too apparent and Danny was not surprised that Steve had joined their group on the floor before Danny had even moved half way across the room, the heavy bag he'd been working over still dancing in the air behind him.

Danny took one look at Kono's pinched, brave face, and the way her hands were protectively hovering at her bent knee and just knew that she'd gone and messed it up again. Not in the 'I just need to walk it off' sense but in the 'I think I just ruined my chances at a pro-surfing career and I don't know if surgery and my bank account can fix this' sort of way. Danny didn't need his unique brand of skills to deduce this as the familiar _helphelphelp_ urge flooded through his body like his blood had suddenly boiled and his fingertips tingled as he moved to join them.

Chin was still looking horrified in his stoic, calm way and Kono was pushing a strand of hair that had escaped her pony tail off her face and was glaring at her cousin.

"Not your fault," she cleared the air forcefully and even though Chin's guilty look didn't disappear he relaxed somewhat. They were all covered in a thin layer of sweat, having taken an actual quiet afternoon to do a little training, and Chin had been sparring with Kono, teaching her a few moves her temper and training at the academy hadn't shown her yet. Clearly something had gone wrong. "I was stupid, just stepped wrong." She met Chin's eyes to make sure he was listening, "I'm good."

Liar.

Steve was frowning from his position beside them and Danny could practically feel his need to reach out and assess her knee himself. He was probably already calculating how long an injury like this could take Kono out of active field duty, wondering if he'd have time to teach her how to properly turn her cane into some badass weapon, and planning her physio therapy that he was probably planning to coach her through himself. The guy probably had x-ray vision and could see right through her skin to the torn ligaments beneath while Danny could only sympathize with her pain as she bent over the damaged knee and wished it hadn't happened.

Problem was it had happened. Danny's own mostly healed knee twinged in sympathy even though he knew his own injury had nothing on her past and, possibly, present level of damage.

"Can you stretch it out at all?" Chin asked, still hovering and Kono's pale face went a little red as she shifted briefly, testing the waters so to speak, and then exhaled a deep breath.

"I'm just gonna rest it for a minute before trying that out," she decided, postponing the pain and inevitable knowledge that a hospital trip was on her horizon. Danny swallowed thickly, his mouth a little dry as he stood over them and decided that this was just wrong. Wrong. This was Kono, and she'd dealt with enough loss in her life due to something as mundane and debilitating as a knee injury. She shouldn't have to do that again.

"Okay," Steve leaned back on his heels and Danny could see that his 'decision' face had firmly locked in place and that he no doubt had a plan of action. Danny could guess at what it was and smoothly moved to Kono's side and began crouching down to join her on the floor. "Chin, lets get some ice on that for now and Danny," Steve looked to him and paused when he noticed that Danny had very firmly parked his butt right beside their rookie. Danny gave him an innocent 'who me?' look that, for some reason, always worked on him. Steve blinked, assessed, and changed his plan without missing a beat. "Stay here with Kono while I go grab Raj from the counterfeit office," he decided, as though he hadn't initially planned on sending Danny to fetch the buildings medic-on-call. Chin and Steve rose to their feet in perfect synchronicity and, with one last concerned look from both of them, turned and headed out of the gym. Kono let out a sigh as soon as they were far enough away to not overhear but otherwise remained silent. Her frustration was flowing off of her in waves and Danny twitched in sympathy when she shifted slightly and froze as something snagged wrong.

He knew it wasn't the pain that made her so unwilling to move just yet (he'd seen her pop up after being thrown against a wall by a man larger than Kamekona and then pretend she didn't notice the goose egg on the back of her head or the scrape that had taken half the skin off her shoulder) but the knowledge that if she damaged the limb further it could just mean more pain and recovery time in the future.

"Hey," he pressed a little closer and knocked her shoulder gently with his own as he willed himself to bide his time just a little longer. If he was going to do this he needed the right moment or else he'd just blow his secret wide open. What he was about to do was a big enough risk that he needed to be as cautious as possible even though he knew Steve and Chin could happen back in a few minutes. It didn't leave him much time. "Tell me," he encouraged softly and Kono huffed a short laugh, finally uncurling from around her bent knee and letting one of her hands rest on top of it gently.

"Such a stupid move," she grumbled, met his eyes briefly and then shook her head in self-irritation. "You'd think the least I could do is damage it in the middle of the actual fight, but I was just stepping away to give myself extra space for a roundhouse and landed wrong," she shrugged, the frustration in her voice was unmistakable but it began to peter out as she told him what happened. "Should have seen the look on cuz's face, brah. That man would blame himself for this even if he'd been on the other side of the building," she tried to add a little levity to her voice even as she shook her head.

"Can't blame him," Danny shrugged, shifting so he was at a slightly more comfortable angle to face her. "He knows what an injury to the knee has already cost you." He didn't mention her aborted surfing career directly but knew that it was on the forefront of both their minds. When she didn't look at him he knew she also feared that this, right now, could somehow screw up her new career as well. "Hey," he saw his chance and took it, reaching out and very, very carefully laid his large hand over hers on her knee in the guise of support. She gave him a quick look, he knew how to choose his moments, and then glanced down to where their hands rested.

"I'm sure you're gonna be fine, Kono," he said softly, inwardly drawing on his energies and beginning a gentle and very direct _push_ that had the tingling in his hand over her knee increase tenfold and the abnormal warmth within him began to flood out through his fingers. "You probably just need a moment and then we'll try to see if you can walk it off." She gave him a look that clearly said 'I'm not gonna be walking this off anytime soon,' and he pushed the heat through his fingers a little harder. "And if not," he shrugged lightly, "then I'm sure Steve's already got a game plan to train you in the deadly art of cane fighting while he has Chin teach you how to hack the Pentagon without leaving a trace," and because he meant every single word (yes, he was pretty sure Steve would do exactly that) and she could read the sincerity in his eyes, she finally huffed a little laugh and relaxed just a bit, her eyes drifting back to where his hand lay atop hers collectively over her knee.

He was almost done, some internal knowledge telling him that even now she would be fine with the level of healing that had taken place but Danny had decided, the moment he'd put his hand there, that if he was going to do this he was damn well gonna do it properly. No half-assed healing here.

"He's right," Chin's sure voice interrupted as he moved up from behind them and Danny nearly jumped out of his skin but managed to keep his hand in place as he looked up to see Chin looming over them now, a bag of ice in hand. Time was up. Danny needed another few moments, just to make sure, and kept his hand where it was. "Steve was already muttering about knife throwing and extra ballistics training before we even left the room," he crouched down to join them, giving Danny a brief and mostly concealed grateful look before his eyes drifted to where their two hands were linked together. His eyebrows rose a little and he looked between them even as Kono snorted indelicately and rolled her eyes at his silent query.

"Relax cuz, Danny was just helping me gain perspective," she pulled her hand away and Danny smoothly took his own back, grinning a little at Chin even as he tried to assure him that he wouldn't actually make moves on his cousin without getting express permission from Chin first.

"Which I'm not sure she ever had in the first place seeing as she made the decision to actually join this task force." He muttered good-naturedly and dropped his hand to his side where he could flex the tension from his fingers and pull his swirling inner energies back under control. Any moment now he was sure the aching tiredness that always came with healing would sink in.

"Like you're one to talk," she grinned lightly at him before shifting slightly and a strange, confused look crossed her face.

"Hey, I didn't have many options after McGarrett's strong arm tactics," he grouched, which was a lie and they all knew it but he refused to give up his long suffering front on principal. He watched as she took the ice from Chin and set it on her knee and her perturbed look deepened a little before she experimentally shifted the previously damaged limb. When it didn't immediately send a stabbing pain through her leg she straightened it out even more.

"Howzit?" Chin was watching her carefully and she finished straightening out the limb on the ground and looked over at him.

"Doesn't hurt so bad anymore," she was definitely confused and a quick look at Chin said that he just looked grateful for that.

"Maybe you just needed a moment to let it rest. Want to try walking it off?" Danny offered, ever the voice of reason and the two Polynesians looked at him before Kono shrugged and held out her arms. Chin and Danny instantly moved to their feet, Danny ignoring the small ache in his own knee and the tiredness in his bones, and they pulled her gently to standing. She very carefully put weight on her bad leg and the confusion she'd had siting on the floor was quickly giving way to relief as she realized that there wasn't any more pain. She put her full weight on it and moved forward a few cautious steps, Chin and Danny hovering protectively at her side even though Danny knew everything would be just fine.

Steve chose that moment to barrel back into the room, Raj only a few steps behind him with the department's portable medical sack over one shoulder. They both stopped not too far away and Kono flushed under their sudden scrutiny as Steve looked her over very carefully.

"Guess it wasn't as bad as I thought, boss." She looked torn between absolute relief and embarrassment and Danny instantly stepped in to draw their attention.

"Just needed to give it a few minutes and walk it off."

"You have any pain?" Raj asked anyway, looking between her knees as though trying to figure out which one was supposed to be injured. Or maybe just checking out her legs, because who could really blame him?

"Nah, just a little ache and even that's fading," she lifted her leg off the floor, still cautious from remembered pain, and bent it experimentally. It was still slightly red from the icepack that had been on it for all of ten seconds.

"Do you need a brace or anything?" he shifted the bag on his shoulder and Kono took a few more experimental steps before shaking her head.

"No, I think I'm good. Sorry to drag you all the way down here," she gave Raj a warm smile and he clearly took no offence as he returned it before taking his leave. Steve was still staring at her hard though, watching her every move and Kono looked to him next. "Sorry boss, I really thought I had hurt it," she did a couple quick squats and knee raises and tried to mask the confusion at actually being able to do that.

"But you're okay now?" Steve looked like he wanted to drop to his knees and perform his own battery of tests just to be sure, but he was learning restraint and Danny was proud of him when all he did was merely shift from one foot to another and stare with laser beam intensity.

"Yeah, actually it hurts less than it did before we even started sparring," she grinned suddenly, the relief clear for all to see and Danny couldn't help smiling fondly as he watched her move around before realizing that Chin and Steve were now looking to him as though he could somehow explain her seemingly miraculous recovery, which of course he could, he just wouldn't.

"What?" He glared pointedly, already feeling the balance of the team falling back into place now that the scare was over. "You doubting my magical ability to heal with words? Where's your faith?" He threw out his arms in exasperation and they both decided to ignore him, instead Steve called it a wrap for gym class and decided that they could probably head off early as there was still nothing on their plate. Danny didn't need to be told twice, heading off to the showers after one last look over a still grinning Kono as she practiced a few kicks.

He may have lingered a ridiculously long time under the nearly scalding spray. He knew his skin was red from the heat, knew he'd need to make sure he chugged a bottle or two of ice cold water as soon as he was back in the office just to stave off the perpetual heatstroke this State threatened. The water gave him the excuse to linger, to recollect some energy before heading back upstairs and pretending that he didn't really want a nap when it was only two in the afternoon and he should be jazzed from the adrenaline of his workout. Plus the department's water pressure was about a thousand times better than his own crappy shower so lingering a little longer than necessary was not unusual for him.

Of course the ease his shower had given him evaporated pretty much instantly when he walked back into Five-O's squad room to see Steve lounging behind Danny's desk and talking on Danny's phone with an air that was definitely not work related.

This couldn't be a good thing.

-H5O-

Steve had stood watching Kono and Chin for a few more minutes as they did some very light sparring to test that Kono really was all right and determine that a trip to her orthopedist wasn't going to be added to the day's agenda. She finished a series of lunges and stood, stretching the leg out and around before coming to a normal stance and looking slightly embarrassed as she scratched the back of her neck.

"It seems fine," she shrugged at them both him and when Chin agreed with a silent nod Steve finally relaxed. He'd been halfway across the room holding Danny's punching bag steady and giving a litany of unnecessary tips just to piss the shorter man off when he'd seen her go down. The flash of pain on her face had been real and the way she'd protected the injured area had been enough to tell him at first glance that her injury could be serious.

It had made his stomach roll because he knew that anything revolving around Kono and her knee could only be bad so the fact that she was perfectly fine now, if trying to hide her embarrassment at what she probably figured was 'causing a scene,' had pushed away the last of his anxiety. Still, he'd seen her go down in pain. It didn't make sense that she was absolutely fine beyond a slight ache that she said was already going away.

"If I'd known landing on it wrong was all I needed to do to chase away the last of the pain I would have done it two years ago," she joked, trying to hide her own puzzlement at the fortunate turn of events. The look of relief in her eyes stayed with Steve all the way back up to their offices and was only chased away a few minutes later when a phone rang.

Steve dragged his eyes away from the empty mug he'd been gazing at on his desk and looked through the glass partition into Danny's office. It was his office line that was ringing. Looking around Steve realized that nobody else was back yet and he pushed to his feet and moved quickly to the room, snatching up the phone as soon as he reached it.

"Five-O, McGarrett speaking," he introduced, noting that Danny had only half finished his lunch because the salad sat limply in its container on the corner of the desk, fork still sticking out. There was a moment of heavy silence coming from the other end of the line and he was about to introduce himself again when a rough voice finally cut in.

"Sorry, I think I have the wrong extension. I'm callin' for Danny Williams," the slight hint of Jersey accent was impossible to misinterpret and all Steve's attention focused immediately on the caller. There were only a handful of people that he could think of that might call the office line for Danny, and the first thing that came to mind was his previous department and/or partner.

"You have the right extension, he's not in at the moment. Is there something I can help you with?"

"He okay?" The sharp tone carried enough concern in the demand that Steve didn't immediately take offence.

"He's fine. Who's calling?" He didn't wince when his voice came across a little too Commander, instead waiting as the man on the other end seemed to take a moment to decide if he was actually going to answer before a light chuckle came through and had Steve frowning for a whole myriad of new reasons.

"Relax, I'm not calling to do your boy any harm," the man said warmly, all snap from his earlier tone gone. "I'm Paul, Danny's brother."

Huh. Steve grinned wide, moved around to Danny's seat and flopped into it unceremoniously, any inkling of caution gone now that he knew that it wasn't someone presenting a case, asking for help, or calling to threaten his partner. It hadn't happened yet but Steve was well aware that a man with a built in volume control that somehow forgot to include a mute button must have enemies somewhere.

"Steve, Danny's partner," he introduced properly and warmly because while Danny didn't talk about the people back home all that often he had mentioned Paul a few times, and always with a fondness that was uniquely Danny.

"Hey, nice to finally meet you. Sorry if I was snappy on the phone earlier. I couldn't get him on his cell and the last time that happened and I got his partner on the company line telling me Danny had been in the hospital and nobody had thought to let me know," he explained freely. Steve's grin disappeared and he looked towards the main office door to see if the man himself would choose that moment to reemerge. There was no one there.

"He's just cleaning up after a workout," he reassured, figuring Danny hadn't heard the ringing cell while he was in the shower. "Nothing to worry about."

"For a change," Paul laughed on the other end of the line. "Way he tells it you guys have a permanent room staked at the hospital just for your day to day activities."

"We're not that bad," Steve immediately countered, because they weren't, no matter how much Danny liked to deny it. "Danny's prone to exaggeration."

"Sometimes" Paul hummed through the line. "Don't take it personal, he's always been a talker, doesn't know when to shut up sometimes," and clearly he'd been talking Paul's ear off about Steve and Five-O because it was very rare that anyone sounded so comfortable while speaking with him over the phone, especially someone he hadn't even really met yet.

"Says a lot and nothing at all," Steve agreed, rolling his shoulder a little and opening the bottom drawer on Danny's desk to steal one of the always present bottles of water.

"Looks like you pay more attention than he gives you credit for," Paul sounded thoughtful, and if his tone had been open and friendly before it now had genuine warmth in it as well. Steve figured that was as much invitation as he had ever needed to ask questions Danny would probably kill him for if he found out about it. He eyed the door again just in case he'd missed his partner sneaking in.

Like Danny actually ever went anywhere quietly.

"You known Danny a long time?" He didn't bother going for subtle, the only one who ever bitched about that to him was Danny anyway. Everyone else generally just accepted it or were too intimidated to bother pointing it out. The silence on the other end of the line suddenly made him wary that he'd pushed too hard too soon. He did not hold his breath while he waited to see if Paul would answer or end the call.

"That's typically implied with the whole 'brothers' thing," Paul finally allowed, slightly cautious but still sounding warm and Steve relaxed back a little in the seat. "But he also said you weren't an idiot. He tell you that we're not related by blood or did you figure that out for yourself?" Steve looked at the picture of Grace on Danny's desk, her huge sunny smile and sparkling eyes easing something inside.

"It was more of a sneak reveal. One of his foster parents spotted him on the pier a few weeks ago and gave it away."

"Damn."

"Yeah, not the way we wanted to figure it out, but I'm guessing if it hadn't happened he'd probably keep us in the dark the rest of our lives."

"Obviously not something he likes to advertise," Paul agreed, his voice going softer and a little distant and Steve wondered if this 'carrying your emotions so openly in your voice was a Williams family trait. "Danny and I met in high school, we were around sixteen. It was love at first argument man, couldn't separate us for the next two years. By that point he was so ingrained with the family it was like he'd always been there. You tell him I said any of this to you and I'll introduce you to the Jersey way of swimming with the fish, hear me?"

"Yeah brah," Steve agreed whole heartedly and knowing he would take it to his grave, which Paul seemed to understand because thirty seconds later Steve was settling in to listen to some of Danny's more embarrassing moments both in school and during his first few years on the force. He was so absorbed that he nearly missed it when Danny finally did come through the door, skin pink and face pale and drawn. It didn't slow the instantly suspicious glare that landed on Steve as he sat in the man's chair idly twirling the outdated phone cord between his fingers. The suspicion quickly morphed to worry and then turned to horror the moment Danny realized that it was his 'brother' that Steve was so easily chatting away with.

"Hey Paul, speak of the devil," Steve grinned and Danny's eyes rounded and he practically lunged over the desk for the phone.

"How long have you two been talkin'?" he demanded when the attempt to gain control failed, glaring when Steve leaned back out of reach and forced him to actually march around the desk to get at it.

"Long enough to know about that double date you went on with Paul and those twins," Steve crowed, only grunting slightly as Danny gave him a gut shot and finally ripped the phone from his hand, pressing it to his own ear.

"You didn't!" He yelled at Paul, a look of pure resignation taking over as Paul confirmed that, oh yeah, he did. "And you wonder why I never let you speak to any of my coworkers before now? You pretend to care and the moment I turn my back you ruin my reputation. You're like a vicious little chihuahua that just yaps out all the personal, and might I add sacred, secrets of brotherhood and common decency!" He paused for a moment and then glared even more fiercely at Steve. "No I will not put that vertically over-challenged behemoth back on the phone. You have lost your phone privileges when it comes to speaking to my _boss_ and telling him _lies_. No you can't speak to friend Steve either," he paused again, lips twitching as he tried to pretend he wasn't flipping from outrage to amusement as he listened to whatever Paul had to say. "Absolutely not. I don't ever want to put the two of you in a room together…because you might spontaneously combust in your eagerness to share all the details about how I make your life worth living and what are you still doing in my chair?" this last bit was clearly directed at Steve as he had made no effort to relinquish the chair even as Danny loomed over him.

Steve smiled and swiftly stood from the seat, waving Danny into it and then pushing it closer to the desk, while Danny scowled at him even harder as he half paid attention to his brother.

"Out!" He ordered, waving a hand and then sputtering a bit as Steve grabbed the bottle of water he'd half finished from the desk. "You know there is a break room twenty feet away that has all the water you could ever want you glutinous fish. That is _my_ water, from _my_ desk and I don't see your name on it!" Steve retreated quickly, looking back just in time to see Danny hide a grin under another glare. "And go take a shower before the smell triggers the hazmat sensors!" Steve pointedly shut the door halfway through Danny's rant but it hadn't stopped the last words from echoing through.

Better. He felt better. The last few weeks had been fine, but there had been an almost unnoticeable tension between Danny and the rest of them as he'd come to terms with having a bit of his past revealed without his consent.

He noticed Chin and Kono off by the wall, amused and indulgent looks on their faces as they had clearly been watching the entire scene and Steve shook his head at them.

"Didn't I send you guys home? I thought I made the order to get lost pretty clear?" he kept the tone light and teasing and Kono made a show of grabbing her pack and flinging it over one shoulder.

"We're gone boss," she decided and they left, her with an extra bounce that he was relieved to see and he smiled after them before going back to his own office. He needed to find that black marker he'd misplaced the other week, because there was no way Danny was going to come back to work tomorrow without Steve having written his name on every bottle of water in the place.

It was a good day.

-H5O-

It was early evening and Bryce leaned comfortably against the side of his car, eyes trained on the glass sliding doors to the grocery store as he listened very carefully to the man on the other end of his newest phone. Eric was back at their apartment doing more research and closing up a couple loose ends before they started up their new moneymaker. The man on the other end of the phone sounded skeptical, much like the two other individuals that Bryce had spoken to these last few weeks, but he also sounded interested and that was what Bryce and Eric had been looking for. Someone who was interested enough to make a deal with them and rich enough to have the money to pay the price they were asking.

Of course that didn't mean the man was stupid, anything but as far as his reputation bragged. Bryce didn't think they could ask for a better first client.

"It's the real deal," Bryce confirmed, trying to sound as confident as possible without being cocky. There was a way to conduct business at this level and while he wasn't practiced at it he wasn't a moron. He had to be careful.

"_You must understand," _the accent was soft and the voice pleasant enough, _"what you are proposing is very difficult to accept at your word. The amount of money you are asking for leads me to believe that you are serious, but I am not one who jumps blindly into business deals without a guarantee of sorts and you do not have any references as of yet." _The underlying threat of not screwing around with him was implied and Bryce refused to shift in unease at the tone. It had taken a lot of work and contacts and burned bridges to get a conversation with this man and he didn't want to ruin their chances by saying something out of step.

He also wasn't going to forget that he was the one who had the product that this man oh so very much wanted, despite his casual tone.

"I can guarantee complete satisfaction, but I understand that what we're offering is…unique. We're preparing for a live demonstration, so you can decide for yourself and if it meets to your satisfaction we can make further arrangements." There was a short pause on the other end as their potential client pretended to think about it, pick his nose, send email, whatever. Bryce didn't care; he knew the demonstration would be taking place.

"_Very well. Contact me when you are ready."_

"Will do," Bryce snapped the phone shut and tossed it into the drain by his feet, satisfied when he heard the distant clatter as it fell through the spaces. At the other end of the parking lot the glass doors slid open and out walked Daniel Williams, paper bag of groceries clutched in one arm as he fished in his pockets for his car keys. He was wearing a blue tie today over an off white shirt, and looked ridiculous. Bryce smiled to himself as he slipped into his car and pulled away. He'd just been checking up on him today, making sure the tracker they'd shoved under his car was still working properly. He was glad to see the man was still in functioning form; the task force he belonged to had a reputation for rough takedowns.

Bryce checked his review mirror one last time, seeing the detective's car pull into traffic and head in the opposite direction. There was no rush to grab him yet, they were just going to bide their time a little longer, make sure they were ready, and the rest would fall into place.

Tbc.


	4. The Futures Presents Past

CHAPTER THREE: The Future Presents Past

"When are we going to get there?" his son asked with a long-suffering tone that had Sean and his wife sharing a small grin. It was the first smile in two days that felt even remotely real and it only lasted a few seconds before the worry seeped back in. Sean turned and leaned an arm over the back of his seat, the material creaking under the movement and his wife gave him another quick look before focusing back on the road. He could barely make out his boys features in the dark of the night but he didn't need to see him to know that he had just awoken from a nap and that he was grumpy. He was so much like his mother in that regard, meanest morning person he ever had the pleasure of knowing.

"Just a few more hours kid," he reached out and gave Danny's knee a quick squeeze. Relieved when his boy didn't flinch away from the contact, finally back to his normal self. Sean gently lay his free hand on his wife's leg and giving her a little squeeze as well, glad when she wrapped her own fingers around his and held on.

"A few _hours_," Danny sighed like it was the end of the world, and glared out the window, only to turn and glare back at his dad when he realized he couldn't see anything because of the darkness and heavy rain. "That's gonna take forever."

"It's not gonna kill you kid, so tough it out and then we'll get a hotel room for the rest of the night."

"I liked my old room," Danny complained, waving one tiny arm around to accent his point and Sean felt the headache that had only just left beginning to return. Anna squeezed his hand a little more tightly. "I liked my old room and my old house and my old school," his voice got a little louder and Sean could hear how tired his boy still was, the exhaustion from the last few days still with him despite the fact that he'd spent the last two days they'd been on the road sleeping. Despite the fact that he'd slept all through Sean and Anna's frantic afternoon of packing up their most important belongings and stuffing them into the back of their station wagon.

"You feeling okay kiddo?" he asked gently, pushing aside his frustration for now because he knew how hard this was on the kid. It was just as hard on them. Danny focused on Sean again, a passing car on the nearly deserted road briefly illuminating his small, worried face. He still looked washed out and tired and Sean's chest felt a little tighter was he waited for a response.

"Yeah," Danny said meekly after a moment too long and Sean felt Anna's leg shift and knew she wanted to check on her boy herself.

"Danny, you know that if something's bothering you you need to tell us," he said as gently and firmly as possible. After a long minute of stubborn silence Sean lifted his hand off his boys knee and rummaged in the bag sitting on the seat next to him. He pulled out a juice box and a banana and after fiddling in the dark he finally managed to get the straw into the damn box and passed it over to Danny without a word. Obediently his boy took the beverage, irritation clear in the stiff outline of his shoulders even as he started drinking from it. He was going to be a nightmare of stubbornness when he got older and when that happened Sean was going to let his wife deal with him. It was only fair as he was dead sure the boy got that personality trait from her.

Sean pulled out a few more drink boxes and passed one to Anna without a word. Somewhere beyond the sparse tree line lightning flashed and the rain seemed to come down even harder, beating a heavy staccato all around them. It made every sound within the car seem hollow.

He shifted a little in his seat, tucking his leg more comfortably under his knee so he could face Danny more easily and waited as the kid finished his drink and piece of fruit before obediently putting the garbage in the plastic bag at his feet.

"Feel better?" he asked softly and Danny shrugged. "I need to know Danny," he added a little more sternly and Danny crossed his arms over his stomach.

"Yeah. I'm not tired," he announced and Sean waited for the floodgates to open because he saw that Danny was settling, becoming comfortable again and that meant that he would be hard to shut-up soon which Sean would gladly have over the silence any day. "I don't hurt anymore," he looked up at his dad and relaxed a little more when Sean just nodded encouragingly. "I don't mind if you touch me now," Sean immediately put his hand back on his boys knee, giving it another squeeze and was relieved again when Danny didn't flinch away. "I'm sorry," he whispered almost too softly to be heard over the thrumming rain, the engine and the radio playing quietly. "I'm sorry," he repeated, hiccupping a little and Sean took his hand off his wife's leg and twisted more bodily to reach right over to Danny. He cupped the tiny face in his hand and pulled his head up so that Danny would look at him.

"Hey, hey now none of that apologizing you hear? This is not your fault Danny, it's not," he insisted when Danny tried to look away.

"If I hadn't" he hiccupped, "hadn't fixed him than we wouldn't have to run again," he sniffled loudly. "If I hadn't than we could still have a house and friends and-"

"Danny," Sean cut him off and gave his knee a little shake. "You listen to me very carefully okay," he ordered and when Danny didn't acknowledge him he patted his cheek gently. "Look at me Danny," he said and did his very best to keep the fear out of his tone when his boy finally did meet his gaze. "We are not mad at you, okay? You didn't do anything wrong, you just wanted to help your friend and we understand okay? We know you just wanted to help."

"But if I didn't help Jimmy than we could still have a home," Danny sniffed, "and we wouldn't have to change our name again, or find a new school, or-"

"We'll just have to be more careful this time," Sean said, just like he had the other time they'd had to pack all their belongings and leave like this. Just like he would say next time. "Remember what your mom and I told you Danny? Remember that we love you no matter what, right?" Danny nodded and scrubbed at the first tear to fall and Sean could see how hard his boy was trying not to cry in front of him.

"If Jimmy hadn't fallen into the fire" Danny started, and Sean cut him off, not willing to let him finish that sentence.

"It was an accident Danny, you know that." It was the first night of a two-night class camping trip, and Danny had begged and begged to go. He wanted to hang out with his friends, he didn't want to be left out, and Sean and Anna had decided that it would be okay so long as Danny promised to be on his best behaviour. It had been a hard decision to make but they had to let him do activities like this otherwise he'd grow resentful. They'd been in town for over a year now, they were establishing a new life under their new identities and were learning how to deal with Danny and his gift and it had felt like a good idea at the time. Anna had gone along to 'chaperone' so she could keep an eye on Danny. When she called Sean just after ten that first evening he had known without a doubt that something had gone very wrong, and when she'd told him to start packing he hadn't questioned her.

"But it was so stupid dad, Mr. Long told them to stop running around the fire and then Jimmy fell into it and he was screaming and crying and his face and arms were all burnt and black and I didn't mean too dad but I couldn't help it and-"

"It's okay Danny, it's okay, you had to help your friend and that's a really good thing kiddo, it really is."

"But now we have to run again, and change our name and be new people because I was too dumb and forgot that I wasn't supposed to help-"

"That's enough Danny," Anna finally spoke up, her voice a little rusty from hours of driving without saying a word, her eyes still fixed with heavy concentration on the road. Sean imagined he could see the cliffs beyond the trees shadows. "You know why we need to keep your gift hidden and why we are always so careful about it, but that does not mean that that you are dumb for helping your friend. It means that you did the right thing, and even though we have to find a new life again Jimmy is going to be able to grow up without any pain because you helped him. You helped save him Danny, and there will _never_ be anything wrong with that. But you just need to be careful," her voice cracked a little and Sean moved his hand to grip hers again.

"I will," Danny's little voice promised so earnestly. He was old enough to know why he needed to be careful but too young to truly understand why his parents were always so scared for him, for all the reasons they forced him to hide.

When Anna had called Sean at home two nights ago and told him to pack what he could she had been crying. He couldn't even begin to describe the terror he'd felt at her sobs.

"A boy fell into the campfire," she had choked out between breaths "Danny was up and helping him before I even knew what was going on Sean."

"Is he okay? Anna? Tell me he's okay?" he'd demanded, frozen like a statue by the kitchen table, the phone hard and cold in his hand.

"He's so pale Sean. I pulled him off the boy before he over did it but he's been sleeping since I put him in the car and he's so pale," she repeated in a broken whisper, clearly picturing the weakened state Sean could only imagine Danny would be in right then, before she pulled herself together. "Everyone saw," her voice had turned businesslike. "There were two teachers and three other parents and they all saw what Danny did to help Jimmy. I got him in the car and left before they really figured out what was going on but I don't know how long it's going to be before someone decides to report it or come and find Danny for themselves."

"Okay," Sean tried to adopt the same businesslike tone but his heart was hammering with worry for his boy and the realization that they didn't have much time. "I'll start packing. How long until you get here?"

"I'm still two hours away," she had answered and it would have to be enough time.

"I'll be ready," he'd reassured her before asking more softly, "are you okay?"

"I've never been more scared in my life Sean. The looks they were giving Danny while they tried to figure out what he had done, if we didn't already know why we need to keep him secret I would be more than convinced now. I've been on the road for an hour and if any of them decide to come after us we won't have a lot of time to get out of town."

"We'll be fine," he had said with closed eyes and a steadying hand on their cheap formica table. "I'll call Don and get a meeting place arranged and we can go from there. Just get here safely okay?" he'd begged.

"We will," she'd taken another steadying breath. "I love you."

"Love you too, now get going," he'd ordered and hung up. It had been a whirlwind of packing, grabbing their emergency money and fake id's, pulling out all the food they could take with them, calling Don and arranging to meet two days later until finally the headlights of their station wagon pulled into the driveway. He grabbed the two closest suitcases by the door and rushed them out to the back of the car before grabbing his wife and giving her a hug that would have crushed a lesser woman.

"How is he?" he'd opened the door to the back seat and crouched down to where Danny was lying huddled beneath a heavy sleeping bag. The boy had looked sweaty in the porch's light and he'd laid a gentle hand on his forehead. Danny flinched and groaned and Sean had jerked back instinctively.

"He hasn't woken up properly yet but he came around enough to have a sip of water an hour ago," Anna said as she had opened the back of the wagon and tossed the two bags full of clothes easily into the back. "He's sensitive all over, doesn't like to be touched, but it's not as bad as last time." He'd closed the door on Danny gently and followed Anna back into the house to grab the boxes of canned and boxed food and basic utensils they'd need.

"Was the boy that fell into the fire not as injured as the last woman Danny helped?"

"This boy was worse," Anna paused and took a deep breath, "The smell of his burning skin Sean, it was horrible, but Danny was the first one to get to him after Tom pulled him out of the fire and he just…God Sean he just put his hand on Jimmy's head and chest without even hesitating and before I knew it the black skin was falling off and the open wounds were healed. It couldn't have been more then twenty seconds before Jimmy was fine."

"And then Danny just fell asleep?"

"No, he still had enough energy to walk to the car by himself, insisted on it actually," there had been a hint of pride beneath the worry in her voice. "He's getting better at it, at healing."

"He's getting older, stronger, maybe that's helping," he'd suggested and she'd agreed. It wasn't as though they had a book they could reference or a doctor that could explain to them what to expect from a son that could spontaneously heal living things with nothing more than a touch. They had no idea how it worked, only that whenever their boy used this gift it took enough out of him that it worried them to no end. "We're going to have to start figuring out how this works Anna, we need to learn his limits so he doesn't keep hurting himself when he does it," he'd tried to keep the desperation out of his tone. This was a conversation they'd been having for years now, it was just beginning to change in urgency.

"Is this everything," she got them back on track and he nodded. They couldn't take much more, it wouldn't fit in the car. "Just need the pillows and we can go," five minutes later they had been on the road with their home of the last year firmly in the rearview mirror.

Now, looking at Danny's pale outline with the thundering rain all around as they drove up the coast, he was allowing the entire last few days to sink in and it made Sean tired. Still…

"I'm proud of you Danny. It takes a lot of courage to put yourself in danger to help another person," he smiled and knew Danny had at least seen it a little when he relaxed. For a nine year old Danny had a lot of pressure riding on his shoulders and Sean and Anna often lay awake for hours trying to find new ways to help their child be who he is without fear. "Also, the name William is very far from _stupid_," he said in a light tone, giving his boy one more light smack to the knee before searching for something else to eat in the bag on the seat.

"It's stupid," Danny insisted, though now it was because he was looking for an amusing argument than really meaning it. This personality trait Sean was proud to brag he got from his old man, even if half the time Danny had no idea how to argue a point. That would come to him with practice.

"Is not. Your mom's granddad was called William and he was very, very far from being stupid."

"Why?" Danny's interest was peaked and Sean began to relax for the first time in two days.

"Well, granddad William wasn't what anybody would generously call a tall man. In fact he was so short that he had to sit on a telephone book at the dinner table just to see his food!"

"He was not, no adult is _that_ short," Danny argued even while Anna gently slapped Sean on the chest in reproach.

"Okay fine, he didn't have to sit on a book, but he was short and he would never hear the end of it. His family, friends, the people he worked with, they couldn't get enough out of making fun of him for being so naturally vertically challenged and he _hated_ it! He was police officer you know, and that's a tough job for anyone of average height to do so when you practically need stilts to look the criminals in the eyes you can only imagine how much trouble he had while working!"

"So why didn't he get a new job if it was so hard?"

"Because he loved what he did, he loved chasing bad guys," Sean explained. "And when you love doing something so much you do everything you can to keep doing it, no matter how hard it sometimes is. But let me tell you that even though he was barely taller than you are right now," he could hear his wife rolling her eyes at him, "he was the loudest, boldest, strongest guy in the whole police force. Seriously, he would arm wrestle a man the size of your gym teacher-"

"Mr. Woodhams? He's bigger than Hulk Hogan!"

"Yes he is," and Sean would never admit that one positive thing about moving away so suddenly was that he'd never have to shake that mans hand again. He was pretty sure he had broken a few bones the last time they'd met. "And Granddad William would win _every_ time they arm wrestled, because every time people saw him they figured that because he was so short he was no challenge."

"People should never make stupid assumptions like that," Danny decided wisely and Sean relaxed a little more, the lightening still flashing around them intermittently.

"No they shouldn't. You see, there was this one day when Grandpa William was going to the bank and he wasn't wearing his police uniform, when a whole gang of bank robbers ran into the place" he began to warm up to the story, it was one of the few Anna's dad had ever told him before Anna had become pregnant and their families had basically cut them out of their lives in shame. This was one of Anna's favourite stories about her grandfather.

With his back to the road Sean never saw the massive stag that leapt into their cars path, he only heard the sudden screeching of tires and felt the vehicle twist and spin out of control until it was falling and tumbling and then nothing more.

Tbc.

AN: Thanks for all the encouraging reviews! They really make my day :D


	5. Fresh Stunts From Old Tricks

CHAPTER 4: Fresh Stunts From Old Tricks

-H5O-

Three days before what would have been his fathers sixtieth birthday a storm rolled in and hip checked the sun right out of the picture. It wasn't a severe storm, it barely rated as a tropical depression, but it was still throwing around enough wind and storm surge to make going outside an exercise in frustration and the idea of surfing stupid. It didn't stop Steve, Kono, or Chin from gazing out at the darkened sky and feeling decidedly depressed. No surfing, no fishing, and most importantly, no swimming. Steve had really, really needed a long, hard swim that morning to help keep his head clear and focused. Instead he'd had to settle for a run on his treadmill and in the end that really didn't help; all that moving and not going anywhere made him feel caged even as it worked up a sweat. So needless to say it hadn't been a good few days.

Plus, to top it off, when Danny looked out the window he actually smiled. _Smiled_. The man was insane, there wasn't any question about it. When the sun was shining you couldn't get him to shut up about it but when it was overcast to the point where it wouldn't be wrong to conclude the sun had thrown the hat in, he was a grinning, happy, calm little man and that was just plain disturbing.

Even now, parked in a chair in the conference room while they went over the histories of a couple shady dignitaries, half a sandwich in hand and his shoulders still soaked through from his sprint from the car to the buildings front doors, he still looked cheerful.

"You are unreal," Chin muttered, obviously having developed the ability to project Steve's thoughts because he was watching Danny with a half amused half puzzled look, as though Danny were a creature he liked having around but sometimes had difficulty remembering why. Danny, in his disgustingly chipper mood, swiveled in his seat to face Chin and waved a hand about in feigned (or not so feigned, it was sometimes difficult to tell even after all their time together) exasperation.

"I am unreal? Me? Clearly you have forgotten what it was like outside a mere two days ago," he pointed out the window with the sandwich and Steve relaxed a little more in his seat. "Or maybe all the humidity and happy, happy sunshine finally cooked your brain because stepping outside at that time was not unlike stepping into an overenthusiastic steam room and don't even think of trying to deny it." He cut a dark look at Steve, who had only been shifting in his seat at a particularly loud rumble of thunder. "If the air became any thicker I would have needed to sprout gills just to walk down the road and while I'm aware that the three of you probably already have them, _I_ do not need any more complications in my life," he finished with dramatically clasping his hands together and shaking them in faux prayer that was emphasized by a flash of lightning and the lights flickering for a very brief half-second.

"Hey, it looks like Sanchez has travelled from Hawai'i to Nova Scotia four times in the last six months but has no record of family or acquaintances there. If that doesn't scream suspicious then I don't understand the meaning of the word." Kono kept her eyes very studiously on the table screen she was examining as she announced her findings and Danny flopped back in his seat and shook his head in disgust.

"Sometimes it's like I'm not even here," he groaned and Steve grinned, finally sitting forward and reaching for his own lunch and no, he was not blind to his partner cutting him a quick glance or how Chin very deliberately did not look up from his work and wondered, not for the first time, how he had managed to end up with this group. Because half the time he really didn't think he deserved them and the other half the time he was pretty certain he'd drown the islands if someone tried to take them away.

"You say something, Danny?" Kono glanced over with a serious face and glittering eyes and Chin snorted indelicately but still did not look away from his work.

"As a matter of fact I was about to suggest that you-"

"DANNO!" The very loud, very distressed and very unexpected cry had the entire team jerking around in their chairs. Steve's heart rate double-timed as he turned to see a sopping wet and tearful little girl race into the room and torpedo right to her father. Danny had dropped his lunch and stood so suddenly that his chair had wheeled halfway across the room as he reached out to his little girl and lifted her into his arms without missing a beat. She clung to him for all she was worth, tucking her face into his neck and then just stilling, clearly exactly where she wanted to be.

Steve had one very selfish moment of trying to remember ever getting hugged like that by his own father, even from before his mother died, and then promptly shoved the thought away as Rachel entered the room.

She was clearly a little stressed right now, a closed umbrella hanging from her hand and her hair slightly damp and disheveled, but she still moved with the elegant confidence that Steve remembered from first meeting her. Most importantly she did not look like the world was about to be torn out from under their feet and the slightly uncomfortable, apologetic look she was sending everyone went a long way in making Steve back off from first alarm to third alarm.

"Hey, hey," Danny muttered softly into Grace's hair, bouncing her a little in his arms even though she was kind of too big to really do that with. "What's wrong munchkin? What's going on?" The last question was calmly directed at Rachel when Grace appeared unready to answer and Rachel shook her head sadly.

"I'm sorry to have interrupted your work," she started which Steve, Chin and Kono waved away immediately. As far as any of them were concerned there was always time for family, and more pointedly there was always time for Grace, even if the entrance was unexpected.

"Don't worry about it," Danny rested a cheek along Grace's hair and focused his sharp blue eyes on Rachel, imploring that she explain his daughter's distress right the hell now and Rachel smiled sadly, tucking a stray bang behind her ear.

"There was an accident at school today. One of Grace's friends was coming back from having lunch at home and didn't look both ways before crossing the road. Grace was watching for her at the classroom window and saw it happen." Nobody missed how Danny's arms tightened a fraction more around his baby.

"Her friend going to be all right?" Steve asked and Rachel broke her gaze from father and daughter to look at him and he noticed the worry lines around her eyes.

"We're not sure yet. The driver was actually following the posted limit and had enough time to mostly stop and as far as anyone could tell from what the paramedics said on scene she's suffering from a few broken bones and a great deal of bruising, but they were optimistic. The teachers felt it best if some of the students went home for the day to deal with the shock and Grace insisted on stopping here first," she explained and that seemed to be the cue for Grace to loosen her death grip around Danny's neck and squirm until he put her back down on the floor and then kneeled before her.

Steve didn't miss the way he rested more heavily on his good knee and went to grab the wayward chair, pushing it towards his partner, who promptly ignored it.

"She looked really hurt Danno," she declared, tears threatening to spill from her eyes and Steve felt something clench inside him and resisted the urge to join Danny on the floor to comfort his girl. Because it wasn't Steve's job…unless Danny wasn't actually in the room…or if it looked like Danny needed help (yeah, that was never an issue with Grace), which right now he didn't. Steve stayed on his feet, hovering behind them and drifting between watching them and watching Rachel, who still looked awkward and apologetic about being here. Steve realized with a start that this was the first time she'd been up to the offices. Normally Danny would meet her down by the building entrance if she needed to drop Grace off and Steve could appreciate that she probably felt out of place being here.

"Did you see her after she was hit by the car?" Danny asked softly and she nodded jerkily, clearly trying to not add to the tear tracks already on her flushed cheeks.

"She was just lying there in the road and the driver was shouting for help and then there were too many people to see around and Mrs. Kaiwi wouldn't let me watch anymore but I heard the paramedics come and then leave and mom says that Ewa was hurt badly but she'll maybe be okay but she was really still Danno and I thought-" she hiccupped and looked about ready to break into sobs, "and I thought that maybe you could heal her," she ended in a whimper.

Several things happened at once that Steve would not truly understand until a later, but he would never be sure if things would have turned out differently had he known.

First Rachel's eyes went really, almost comically, wide and a hand flew to press against her mouth before she schooled her features into a very carefully blank mask and waited to see how Danny would react.

Danny's shoulders squared off, almost defensively and only for a very brief moment, but it was enough for Steve to notice and file away for future contemplation. Danny's eyes never lost their warmth though, focused intently on Grace even as he took a deep, steadying breath.

Grace's gathering tears grew twice as fat and finally rolled down her cheeks and she looked scared and nervous and determined all at once. It was a look Steve had more than a passing experience with from her father. It was the look that usually said shit had just gone really, horribly, wrong but he was going to go down fighting (and most likely arguing because it was Danny) even if it was the last thing he did.

It was a little disconcerting to see the look on Grace, but it was hidden very quickly as Danny pulled her back into his body and she latched her arms around his neck again.

"'M sorry," she sobbed into his shoulder. "'M sorry," Danny shushed her instantly and Steve, having no idea what she was apologizing for, shared a confused look with Chin just to confirm that he wasn't the only one not following her thought processes.

"It's okay munchkin, it's okay," Danny crooned and took a noticeable moment to collect himself and Steve wondered how he was going to handle this, because while Steve knew Grace worshiped the ground her dad walked on (which Danny could be surprisingly blind about sometimes) those were some high expectations she had just set. Steve couldn't see Danny's face, but beyond them Rachel had a decidedly uneasy stance and her schooled features were almost doll like in the rooms bright lights; plastic and shiny and locked in place. Outside a loud crack of thunder made her jump.

"I know Ewa got hurt really badly this morning, but the paramedics and the doctors will do everything they can to make sure she's okay," Danny explained softly.

"But we don't know if they can help her and she'd be better if you-"

"I'm not a doctor, honey," Danny said softly but firmly and pushed her back so that he could look seriously into her eyes.

"But you fix me all the time," she warbled, her bottom lip trembling and Steve could tell that Danny was having a rare, difficult moment trying to determine the best way to respond.

"This is a little different Gracie, I can't just put a bandaid over it and kiss it better."

"But-"

"We've talked about this munchkin," he said firmly and gently squeezed her shoulders and, much to everyone's surprise as they had expected her to protest more, she nodded her head in silent agreement. The tears kept coming though, and Danny kind of crumpled a little as he pulled her back to him for another hug. "But maybe I can stop by the hospital after work and just check that she's okay." As far as Grace seemed concerned that was all she wanted to hear and she hugged her dad with a new zest.

"Can I come too?" She asked, the tears gone from her voice and Danny sighed.

"We'll see," he answered vaguely, and Steve understood that Danny wouldn't take her unless her friend was actually okay and he had permission from their parents and the doctors to visit. They stayed frozen like that for a long minute, neither Williams making any move to end the embrace until Rachel cleared her throat, looking decidedly uncomfortable, and Grace reluctantly pulled away.

"We should get going," Rachel announced, her soft British accent made the order sound like more of a suggestion and Grace bounced back to her, suddenly all rainbows and sunshine. "I am sorry for interrupting your work, please understand that this will not become a common occurrence," she explained to Steve more than Danny, and Steve accepted that with a nod. There was a reason they didn't just drop by unannounced, why Danny always met them at the front door, because their job was not an easy one and sometimes there were pictures of the destruction human beings could cause lying around that no child should be exposed to.

"I have to go to the bathroom," Grace announced, tears finally beginning to dry on her blotchy red cheeks and Kono stepped up with a friendly smile and held out her hand.

"It can be a bit tricky to find," she explained to Rachel who gave her a soft smile and watched as the two ladies disappeared out the door. Chin took that as his cue to go check something in his office, which left Steve standing there with the awkwardly ex-married couple. He could make his own excuse to leave, probably should, but he didn't feel like it. Danny was still slightly tense after the scare of having his daughter run into his arms crying and Steve had never been good at leaving him alone when he had that rigid set to his shoulders.

Also, as much as Danny was trying and mostly succeeding in rebuilding an amicable relationship with Rachel he had once told Steve, after a few too many beers, that while they might be able to be friends again one day he wasn't sure if he could ever truly forgive her for taking his daughter to the other side of the country. Anger and broken emotions could garner sympathy from the man but he had once compared his ex-wife's move to legal kidnapping. After that Steve had taken to having his partner's back whenever he could when Rachel was around despite how nice she was. Right now was no exception.

Danny sighed and rubbed briefly at his forehead before giving Rachel a look.

"Do you have any objections to me taking her to see her friend if she's okay?"

"None. I'd be glad for it truthfully, it would help settle Grace's mind to see her tonight."

"Yeah well, no guarantees," he frowned, and then the frown deepened. "Who let's their ten year old kid walk back to school without supervision anyway? In this weather? I don't know this Ewa girl, do I need to look into the family life?"

"No, don't do that Daniel," Rachel quickly rejected the idea with a pained look. "Her mother was with her, Ewa just took off at the last second and she couldn't grab her in time. Sometimes…sometimes these things just happen," she shrugged helplessly and there was a flash of terror that crossed over Danny's face before it was locked away and the three of them stood there for a moment in awkward silence. Steve absently scratched his elbow, his attention drifting briefly to the window as a gust of wind pelted it with rain before Rachel cleared her throat.

"Stan told me the date for Hoffman's preliminary hearing was set," she announced and the pained look came right back to Danny's face, though he kept it rather muted. Steve frowned and looked to Rachel. "Have you been presented with the summons yet?"

"The housing commissioner? This is the guy who hired people to carjack you right?" Steve cut in, looking between them. Danny hadn't told him much about the case beyond the fact that Stan had gotten in over his head and that things had been taken care of. Honestly he'd put it out of his mind, because if Danny said it was dealt with then he trusted it to be dealt with. Now Rachel's obvious unease about it was peaking his interest. Danny apparently wasn't as concerned as he gave Steve an irritated little glare before pointedly turning to Rachel.

"Yes, I have and yes," he looked to Steve, "this is the man who hired armed thugs to attack Grace and Rachel and later searched their home and I have already placed an official request to be dismissed from the office for the date. You need to remember that date because on that date you will make sure you don't drag me into a helicopter chase or some deep sea terrorist slamdown because I am telling you right now you will be on your own."

"I would never," he protested, "I don't have a license to fly."

"Right, and what fun would a helicopter chase be if you weren't the one flying," he deadpanned before pointing firmly at him, "and don't think I don't know that wouldn't stop you," he scoffed, but he had a funny little look on his face that Steve couldn't interpret and Rachel was looking between them with slight alarm. Before anyone could think of something else to say Grace and Kono were back and Rachel left with her daughter only moments later.

They got back to work.

A short time later Danny disappeared into his office and Steve could see him making a few phone calls, the tiny crows feet at the corner of his eyes scrunching as though he had a headache. By the time Steve was willing to call it a day the storm outside was clearing up and the first rays of sunlight were straining to break through the heavy clouds and Danny was kind of tense.

"Hey?" Steve called out just before his partner slipped out for the night and Danny turned to face him a little quicker than usual, arching his brow in question. "You find anything out about Grace's friend?" It was hard not to be concerned even as a fifth party, and Danny tensed up a little more.

"Made a few calls. Looks like she was hurt pretty badly, some severe breaks. They're worried about spinal damage. Don't think I'll take Grace to see her today."

"That sucks man," he sighed and Danny nodded in response. There wasn't anything else they could really say about it.

"See you tomorrow," gave a little half wave and took off. The unease that had been stirring in his chest on and off for weeks now roused again as he watched Danny walk away, hot and uneasy in his chest and for some unexplainable reason he wanted to follow the man, make sure he was safe. Just as fast as the unreasonable urge arose it dissipated, leaving Steve to shake his head at himself and head back into his office and shut down his computer for the night.

If he had a nightmare in the early morning hours where he passed Grace at a crosswalk to stand beside his father, who had a bullet hole masquerading as a third eye on his forehead, and watched while a APC ran her down; well, he didn't mention it to anyone the next morning, least of all her father. Instead he swam two extra miles and bought half a dozen vegan blueberry muffins for the office and made sure his most charming grin was firmly in place.

-H5O-

It was ridiculously late, or early depending on whom you were asking, when Danny slipped quietly into the intensive care unit at Queens. The young nurse who was manning the front desk watched him approach with a sharp eye. ICU visiting rules were different from the rest of the hospital; usually they were more flexible in deference to people trying to be with their loved ones in what could be their last hours. That was for immediate family and people relegated to a very short guest list.

Danny was not on the guest list.

He adopted a stern, but apologetic look and flashed his badge, saying he needed to check on a patient briefly and would be out of their hair in no time. She had pretty much lost interest in him the moment he pulled his badge.

A quick glance at the white board told him which room Ewa was in and he moved quietly down the hall before coming upon the glass walls. His heart stuttered in his chest when he took in the sight of the little girl, both arms in temporary casts, a neck brace wrapped securely around her throat, a tube breathing for her and a drain pipe sticking out from a heavy bandage on the right side of her chest.

Jesus, she was in bad shape. He looked at her sleeping (unconscious?) face and imagined that this could be his Grace and his heart double-timed it until he took a few deep breaths and forced it to calm.

Ewa's father sat in a chair on the opposite side of the bed, his hand gently holding hers and his head pillowed on the mattress, out cold.

Danny took a breath and moved into the room, so intent on the little girl that he didn't notice her mother sitting against the far wall until he had already laid his hand, ever so gently, on her forehead. He felt more than saw the woman shift and his eyes snapped over to find her watching him steadily. He waited for her to tell him to back away from her child, to remove his hand, to demand to know who he was. When she remained silent, just watching him, he took that as permission to stay where he was and he looked back down at the little girl who could so easily be his, and leaned down to her ear.

"You're going to get better real quick," he told her softly, his fingertips tingling and the familiar heat of energy flowing into her. "You're gonna go home and play with your dolls and learn how to surf, and grow up to make your parents proud." He didn't know why he said anything, it just felt right, and after another moment he pulled gently away.

He hadn't done much; he couldn't risk healing her completely when it could so easily be traced back to him, but he did what he thought would help most. He fixed the swelling around her cervical vertebrae, she would not be paralyzed; he mended the small tear in her shoulder that may or may not have been picked up on the scans; he dug deep into the bones and gave them a kick start, so to speak, in the healing process, putting her days ahead of where she should be; and he finished by ordering her entire body to mend faster then was normal and gave her a reserve of energy to draw from to make it happen.

Healing like that, with such direct targets, wasn't something he was practiced with, but it wasn't something he was completely unfamiliar with. It didn't stop him stumbling slightly over his feet as he stepped away from the bed, his vision blurring a brief moment before the world righted itself and, other than a heavy tiredness, he felt just fine. He swallowed thickly and looked back to the mother who was still watching him steadily. There was no way she could know what he had done, but there was some kind of deep, instinctive trust in her eyes that made him instantly uneasy.

He left without a word and slipped back into the world outside, hidden in the shadows cast by an ambulance's flashing lights. Ewa would be fine, with time. He didn't know what to think of the mother, he hoped she hadn't recognized him, hoped she wouldn't make a fuss over his ridiculously late visit, but something told him that she wouldn't. He felt safe, despite the near exposure, safer than he ever had back in Jersey. Back in Jersey he never would have pulled a stunt like this.

Back in Jersey he never would have pulled a lot of the 'stunts' he's pulled here.

Maybe, in the morning, he'd think about this new boldness more thoroughly, assess what it meant and then give himself a stern lecture about being an idiot.

For now, he was going to ride the contact high of doing the right thing.

Tbc.


	6. Deal, No Deal

CHAPTER FIVE: Deal, No Deal

-H5O-

It had been a few long weeks; weeks fuelled by visions of mansions in tropical paradises all over the world, private jets, beautiful woman, power, prestige and hell, maybe even a private island. The sky was the limit as far as he was concerned, and judging by the grin on his brother's face, he was feeling the same way.

"Make the call," Eric told him as he pulled open the fridge. Bryce didn't argue as he flipped open the phone and punched in the only number it had ever called. He waited two rings before it was answered.

"We're ready for the live demonstration. How soon can you have your associate here?" He listened intently to the accented voice on the other end of the phone and his lips curled up in satisfaction. "Tomorrow evening will be fine, I will send you the coordinates where we will pick her up. Until then." He listened to the farewell and snapped his phone shut as soon as it was over and met his brother's eyes. "Tomorrow night," he announced unnecessarily, but his brother just grinned and handed him a beer.

The sound of bottles clinking together had never been so sweet.

-H5O-

"Drinks?" Kono asked after Steve had come out of his office and announced that the Biro twin case was finally wrapped up. Danny groaned inwardly at the thought of spending the next few hours socializing instead of curling up under the cover of his not-so-comfortable sofa bed and sleeping until the morning sunshine woke him up at an unholy hour. It wasn't anything personal, it was just that the idea of watching Kono, all energetic and exuberant over closing the case all night when he was feeling this tired made him feel old. He wasn't old, so he took offence to the feeling, but he couldn't deny to himself that he was exhausted.

They'd been working on the case for almost two weeks, some of the days stretching deep into the night, and his little visit to Grace's friend a few nights before had not helped his energy levels any.

Then he looked at Steve. Steve who had bags under his eyes, whose skin was doing its best to imitate pallid under his tan, whose step had been heavy and strained all day. Hell, Steve had been tired and distracted all week. It would have been his dad's birthday this day.

"Drinks." He'd found himself agreeing and figured he could gladly fight off his fatigue a few hours more if it made Steve's face light up like it had.

Distraction and family was what Steve needed, and that was what he got, which was how the four of them wound up at a local favourite a short time later with Kamekona arriving soon after. If the big man, Chin and Kono kept up most of the conversation that night Danny wasn't going to point it out. He was tired, not stupid, but it didn't stop Steve from sending him little glances when he apparently thought Danny wouldn't notice. Or, more likely, he just didn't care if Danny noticed.

"And that is why there is a mermaid painting with Chin's face glued to it at Cousin Ahe's place," Kamekona concluded and Kono just about bust a gut as she laughed while Chin glared mutinously between their rookie and Kamekona. Danny blinked back into the conversation, clearly having missed that entire story, and threw a smile on his face to try and pretend his attention hadn't been drifting.

"How did you ever find out about that?" Chin demanded, his look clearly promising retribution, to which Kamekona smiled contentedly.

"Not much gets by me on this island, brah," he reminded them all, lips quirking and his gaze fell on Danny, watching him silently for a moment longer than necessary before moving back to Kono. Danny had frozen mid-reach for his beer, the man's look pinning him in place and he was sure that it wasn't his imagination that Kamekona had wanted him to _hear_ what he was saying. Not his imagination at all, the problem was that while he had heard it he wasn't sure exactly what the big man wanted to impart. It made him uneasy.

"So," Steve cleared his throat a little after the laugh and focused his attention on Danny. "I checked in at Queen's hospital this afternoon. Apparently Ewa's doing one hell of a lot better than the initial prognosis determined," he looked relieved at this and it was sweet, and also a little disturbing.

"You checked up on her?" Danny blurted out, not his most cunning question but he was a little thrown off by the subject change.

"Yeah," Steve shrugged, like it was the most natural thing in the world to do. "Grace was pretty worried, right? I wanted to know if she'd be okay. Apparently the doctors initially diagnosed her with severe spinal damage, said she wouldn't walk again, but it looks like they read the x-rays wrong. Apparently she's like a medical miracle or something, healing up faster than normal for her injuries."

"That's good news," Kono smiled softly at Danny and he smiled back, hoping it didn't look too strained.

"Yeah," he muttered and took a pull of his beer, "it's great news." His neck was tingling the way it did when someone was watching him and he looked over at his partner and frowned in irritation.

Steve was giving him _that look_ again. The 'I think there's something you're not telling me but I can't call you on it because I have no idea what the hell it is' look. It was sort of a cross between a thoughtful little squint and a twisted press of his lips that was not attractive. Like at all. Danny didn't call him on it, because he had a sneaking suspicion that making a comment about this particular look would somehow convince Steve that he should be asking the questions he hadn't figured out how to word yet. Instead Danny made a weak excuse about too much beer and retreated to the privacy of the restrooms, effectively ending that possibility.

Okay, note to self: no more healing people while on the job and no more healing people off the job unless it was completely, absolutely, life or death necessary. He had to cut back, he had to be more careful, he had to _stop_.

He didn't know what the hell it was about Hawai'i, but he'd never been so blatantly obvious about his skill back in Jersey, or anywhere else, he was sure of it. He needed to fight the instinct harder because he couldn't afford to be discovered, not here and not ever. He had Gracie to worry about and he had his position on Five-O to worry about and he'd be damned if he screwed up his life even more because he couldn't resist easing the pain of every bruise and broken bone he came in contact with.

"You need to _stop_," he growled and then startled a bit when a stall in the men's room opened and a big blonde guy with tattoos running up his forearms wandered out to join him at the sink. He tossed an irritating, knowing smirk at Danny that instantly put him even more on edge. Without acknowledging him Danny dried off his face moved back out the door and into the main hub of the bar. The music was louder than before, the beat picking up and shaking the floor as he moved through the crowd back to the table with his friends, and it was a strange thing how the worry that was beginning to plague him was both caused by and relieved by his team. He resisted rolling his eyes at himself.

Idiot.

He squeezed between a couple of bleached blondes, fingers twitching when his hand accidently brushed against the man's forearm and sensed the ulcer he was growing like a lovechild. Danny tossed the woman a quick little smile, fingers pressing into the mans arm a moment longer than necessary and it wasn't until he was a few steps beyond them that his step faltered and a brief wave of fatigue crashed through him before running its course.

_Damn it._

DAMN IT! He hadn't even meant to do that!

He glanced back to see that the man had stopped dancing and had a hand pressed to his gut with a stupid, puzzled look on his face. His gaze seemed to instinctively find Danny and Danny turned away quickly, back towards his table, only to see his teammates watching his approach. He would have faltered again, his admittedly overactive mind flaring up with the thought that they had seen, that this time for sure they had figured it out! But then Kono smiled cheekily at him and Chin was apparently more interested in polishing off the last of his drink and Danny relaxed a fraction as he pulled up beside them and gave Kono a wary look.

"I miss something?" he asked and she just shook her head at him and pushed to her feet.

"I've got to get going. Gonna hit the Ala Moana before shift and I want an easy night." You'd think she had just announced she was carrying Kamekona's baby with the way Chin and Steve's gazes snapped to her. Kamekona, apparently, had left while Danny was in the bathroom.

"Fo'real cuz?" Chin frowned and Steve gave her a hard look.

"Jalike to think that through a little more?" Steve pursed his lips, tossing a few bills to the table and pushed to his own feet. Danny stepped to the side, eyeing the last of his own beer glass and deciding the dregs would not be worth finishing, not after sitting out untouched in this heat. "That's a heavy hill of water."

"Relax braddah's, I'm not turnin' lolo on ya. I was there earlier in the week with Ben and my knee held out. Like new," her grin was nearly blinding as she reassured them but both men still looked uneasy.

"You better be sure," Steve ordered seriously. "I'm not breaking in a new rookie if you bite it."

"Trust me brah, the knee's practically better than before I busted it. I'm not putting my place on the team at risk," she tossed a couple of her own bills on the table and gave them a wave before heading out. Chin followed a moment later which left Danny reaching into his back pocket and snagging his own wallet only to have Steve wave him off.

"Don't worry about it," he gave a tired grin and began heading to the door, and Danny spent a nearly unforgivable moment blinking at his back as his apparently overly tired mind interpreted Steve's words. It didn't take much effort to catch up to Steve a moment later, the man was moving more slowly than usual.

"Did I actually just hear you right?" Danny waved an arm, perhaps wider than necessary. "Did you just willingly pay for my drink without me needing to insist even once?" Steve gave him a dirty look and continued to head towards the parking lot. The music was so loud in the club now that Danny swore he could still feel its beat even after they'd left the building and he bumped Steve's elbow just incase the man was too tired to get that he was just giving him a hard time, like usual.

"I have an ulterior motive," Steve informed him as they wound their way through the full parking lot, heading all the way to the back as there had been no closer parking when they'd arrived. Danny frowned up at the light post as they got closer to his car: looked like the light wasn't working, but the large bulb wasn't broken so he disregarded any notion of foul play.

"Of course you do," he muttered and rubbed at his temple, hoping this ulterior motive wouldn't get him shot between now and Monday morning. With Steve you never knew.

"Need you to drive," Steve smirked at him, the weariness in his entire frame hidden now as the light disappeared. "Had a couple too many," he explained, like Danny didn't already know that. Like he didn't know Steve was more than a little drunk despite the fact that he was walking straight and not slurring his words like a normal human being. Like Danny wasn't already planning on parking it in the man's spare bedroom just to make sure he was okay, and by okay he meant ensuring the man didn't choke on his own tongue.

"Oh, how responsible of you, letting me drive my own car home. Should I alert the press? Send out an interoffice memo specifying the date and time of this gracious allowance? Because I gotta say the novelty of driving my own car will probably never wear off seeing as it happens so infrequently. Maybe I should-" he cut himself off mid rant the moment Steve tensed. His hand twitched in the way Danny had learned meant urgent!quiet!. The warning was unnecessary because Danny had heard the same sound Steve had: a muffled cry. It had come from the shadowed bushes just beyond his Camaro and had quickly cut off. Steve gave him the look that asked 'are you ready?' Danny gave him one right back that he hoped suitably stated 'of course, moron.'

Problems with this response: 1) Danny was the only one carrying a weapon as he'd pretty much threatened to transfer back to HPD if Steve drank with so much as his back-up gun strapped to his ankle. 2) Steve was drunk, although that probably wasn't as big as a problem as it would be for most other people. 3) Well the third problem would be that Steve, the unarmed one, would no doubt decide that he would be the first to head towards the distressed cry. Oh and look, there was a giant knife in his hand.

Danny very pointedly did not comment as he followed his partner into the trees.

-H5O-

The moment he heard the cry the drunken haze that filled his head cleared enough in the adrenalin rush that he didn't think twice about responding. With a quick look to make sure Danny knew what was going on he pulled out the knife he'd strapped to his calf, in difference to Danny's 'no guns while getting drunk' demand, and slunk as quietly as he could in the direction of the cry.

The trees weren't very thick, but there was a decent grouping of lower shrubs and without the parking lot's light everything was cast in shadow. It would be difficult to see anything from the sidewalk. The music from the bar in the distance and the waves on the beach beyond the trees were enough to mask the average decibel, which made it the ideal place for a coward to attack. If the victim was subdued quickly enough they could probably get away with anything and no one would ever hear to come and help.

Anger rushed hot through him and he crouched a little lower as the whimper came again.

"_Shut up!_" a mans voice hissed ahead of them and Steve glanced quickly to see Danny break away to his right with that look of concentration that meant he was right there with Steve and ready to throw down. Steve crept closer and found the source of distress in a small clearing; a woman with short, floppy blonde hair and glasses that sat askew on her terrified face was being held against a masked man's chest. He had a thick arm wrapped firmly around her throat and a gun pressed under her chin. He jerked her and she choked down on a sob. This close he could see the tear tracks running down her cheeks and instinct told him to just charge the scene and take the man out with a swift strike.

The gun made him hold his position, and the fact that Danny was going to be taking point on this. Steve would remain hidden, the ace up his partner's sleeve, until they knew more about what was going on. It was difficult to wait, nearly impossible, and he slowly crouched down behind the palm tree he was using both for cover to be ready to strike and to make him stay in place.

There was something odd about the situation though and an uncertainty began to creep up as he watched the struggling woman. The man was just standing there growling threateningly at her. Why wasn't he doing anything more? Why would he drag her out here just to stand there?

He frowned, and then Danny stepped from the other side of the small clearing, broad shoulders squared and his gun aimed steadily at them. The moonlight was bright enough, along with the ambient light, that Steve could clearly see his partners face, and he did not look pleased as he glared them down.

"Five O," he announced and the man wearing the black balaclava jerked at his voice and twisted around to place the woman directly between Danny and him. Steve prepared to move so he could take him from behind. "Drop your weapon and let her go," Danny continued smoothly, gaze not wavering as he attempted to stare him down.

There was a moment of silence, where the man just stared at Danny, before he tightened his grip and pushed the gun barrel harder into her chin.

"Where's your partner?" He demanded and turned a little to scan the clearing. He looked right where Steve had been crouched only moments before.

"Listen buddy, why don't you let the nice girl go, put down your weapon, and we can talk about how your parents and guidance counselor failed you in your youth," Danny said in way of answer, but the frown on his face was more pronounced.

"I have a better idea," the man grinned, his lips surrounded by the black cloth and teeth gleaming. "How about _you_ put down _your_ weapon and your partner comes out from wherever he's lurking." Steve was almost in position. The brush was thin enough that it was difficult to move without being seen or heard, but he stilled at the warning in the gunman's voice. A shock of unease ran down his spine, the dawning understanding that this was a trap coming too late.

A second masked man stepped out from behind a fat needle palm tree right behind Danny and pressed the muzzle of his gun to the back of his head. Danny froze and then very slowly pulled his hands apart and clicked the safety back on his gun before holding both arms to his side in surrender. The man snatched the weapon from him without moving his own gun.

"I would suggest that your partner show himself now, before a bullet finds itself imbedded in a very uncomfortable place," the man still holding the woman ordered, his tone thick with smugness. Steve reassessed the situation and couldn't come up with a way to end this without losing at least one of the two hostages. Clearly these two guys had thought this trap through. They were officially in it, and deep.

When the man holding the gun to Danny's head shifted it to the back of Danny's shoulder Steve realized that the time for stalling was over. He hastily slid the knife back into its sheath and stood.

"I'm coming out," he warned and the guy with the woman turned and re-aimed his weapon to track Steve as he took the last few steps into the clearing. Steve couldn't see most of the guys face, but he could see the surprise when jackass number one realized exactly how close he'd been to getting the drop on him. Not close enough.

"Put your hands behind your head and move into the middle of the clearing," Number One ordered, his weapon trained steadily on Steve and he complied without hesitation, sharing a pained look with Danny as he was frog marched past Steve and ordered to stand with the gunmen. The fact that these guys were keeping them split up was not lost on Steve. "Kneel," he was ordered and Steve dropped, his knees sinking painlessly into the sandy soft ground. He remained ready, glaring at them from the lowered position and waiting to strike at the first opportunity. He looked calmly at Danny, whose unruffled façade was beginning to crack a little and Steve would have to be blind not to see the worry leaking through. He'd have to be stupid not to share it. He couldn't resist giving Danny a little half wink in weak reassurance.

"Listen," Danny started, or tried to start, before the gun in his back dug in hard enough that he had to take a step forward to catch himself, and Steve watched as a switch flipped in his partner's head and the worry was ruthlessly replaced with anger. That was more familiar and, oddly enough, made Steve feel slightly better about this FUBAR of a situation.

"Shut up," the man holding the woman suddenly released her and she took a hasty step to the side. That was as far as she went before stopping to straighten her clothes and glasses and wipe daintily at her cheeks with her finger, erasing the tears.

"Shall we proceed?" The woman asked primly and received a sharp nod in return from both men.

"We're waiting on you sweetheart. Get your boss online," Number One ordered and she pulled out a very high quality videophone.

"Whatever it is your doing here: stop," Danny finally verbalized his protest, glaring daggers at the woman, the betrayal he felt obvious on his face but the woman seemed unconcerned as she pressed the phone's buttons. Steve shifted and the gun that was pointed very steadily at him shifted slightly to account for the movement and he froze again, a bead of sweat trickling down the back of his neck.

"Be quiet or we shoot him now."

"As opposed to later?" Danny demanded, his tone incredulous. "That's not the most effective incentive," he grumbled but after a weary look to Steve, stuck there in the dirt and glaring up at the people towering over him he firmly pressed his lips together.

"I have a direct connection," the woman announced. She had a faint accent that Steve couldn't place and he focused on her as she turned the lens of the phone on him, clearly getting a shot of him. He glared. What the hell was going on?

"Good," the man holding the weapon on Steve took a step closer to him.

"Don't move," the guy behind Danny warned, and Steve's gaze zeroed in on his large hand clamping over Danny's shoulder and squeezing. "We wouldn't want him to hit something too important because you were impatient," he decided coolly.

"I don't want him to be hit at all!" Danny snarled but remained in place. "Whatever it is that you want you are not going to increase your chances of getting it by shooting him, understand? This will not go the way you're planning, it never does, so let's just hold our horses here and talk about this like reasonable human beings that _don't _trick people into hostage situations and put the guns away. How's that sound?" Steve listened to his partner's panicked rant but his own mind had gone to a very calm and calculating place. He didn't miss the impatient look the woman sent the men. He didn't miss the fact that a new gun had been aimed at Steve and this one had a sleek silencer attached to it. He didn't miss Danny's fists clenching at his sides or the weapon that was pressed threateningly into his neck. Steve looked down the barrel pointed at him and waited for the inevitable.

"Time to get to work," the man at the other end said softly and squeezed the trigger. Twice.

Steve had been expecting it, he wasn't a virgin to gunshot wounds, but the few times he'd been shot they'd barely entered his flesh, just ripping close enough to take painful chunks of meat but nothing more.

These bullets slid home deep. He felt the impacts, one after another, an instant of lava hot burning and pain and his breath being stolen from him, before it transformed into an almost overbearing numbness; it became a dull ache in his belly and an elephant on his chest and distantly he figured he must look like an idiot with the startled look on his face but he couldn't seem to bring himself to really care as he was falling. Falling? Oh, there was the ground. Nice of it to catch him.

He shook his head and tried to organize his thoughts, sound fluctuating in and out and he heard words like _time_ and _we know_ and _your fault_. He looked down to see what was sitting on him and, hopefully, figure out how to remove it and noticed that there was nothing but dark patches of liquid ruining one of his nicest blue t-shirts. He tried to probe at it with his hand, wanting to see what the liquid was, but he couldn't seem to direct it properly and his fingers ended up digging in dirt instead of his shirt. It was kind of neat how his vision was shifting between normal and a shiny, flashy, silvery world. Like a picture in negative.

Then in a rush he remembered the guns and the masked men. Danny.

"Danny?" he meant it as a warning but it came out as a question and suddenly he went from staring up blankly at palm fronds overhead to staring into blue eyes that were startlingly close. He blinked at them.

"Yu'ave blue eyes," he slurred and wanted to kick himself, because he was sure he had meant to put another word in there, somewhere.

"You must be a detective," Danny muttered and pulled away enough that Steve could see around him again. Danny was on the dirt with him, one of his hands was covered in dark liquid and Steve realized with a start that it was blood. His blood, and Danny's hand was shaking.

"S'okay," he mumbled and made a grab for the hand but somehow missed. Danny corrected that quickly, his fingers wrapping around his own, warm and strong. "S'okay Danny, don' worry, be over soon," he tried to comfort him, because he could see the fear in the man's eyes. Danny was probably the most expressive man he had ever met, and Steve loved that about him. He'd never told him that before, maybe he should tell him now, before it was over and Steve left him for good. It would be the right thing to do. "Dee," he started and coughed as something hot and liquid tried to crawl up his throat and stop his words and Danny was suddenly back, leaning close and staring right at him.

"Would ya- would ya just be quiet for once, Steve? Please? Would you please let me work without interrupting?" Danny asked, his voice cracking a little and it didn't make sense to Steve because usually it was Danny interrupting people all the time. Danny was the one they couldn't shut up. Danny always had something to bitch about. But Steve trusted Danny, he always had, so he just nodded and let his head fall back down so he could stare up at the trees and the moon some more.

It was mesmerizing, so he couldn't be blamed for not noticing when the heaviness in his chest lifted, the dull ache turning into a dull heat turning into a hot heat. He didn't notice until the heat was gone, and the fire that had been digging into his stomach with a blunt wooden spoon disappeared altogether and then he was roughly being turned over onto his side.

Rescue position. The moment he recognized it he began to protest, clarity trying to gather in his mind, but strong warm hands pinned him in place and he coughed. Thick liquid gushed up from his throat. He started to retch helplessly at the sensation. It was disgusting.

"You're good, you're good, just go with it, just breathe," Danny's soft voice encouraged from right above his ear and he listened, throwing up until there was nothing left and then just resting there with his cheek on his arm and Danny's really, really warm hand supporting his shoulder.

"He fixed?" A harsher voice intruded and Steve tensed but couldn't seem to move in response. His entire body felt heavy, almost unresponsive.

"No thanks to you," Danny snarled in a tone Steve had never heard. The closest he could come to recognizing it would have been the day Grace had had a gun pointed in her face because of step-Stan. "You crazy assholes! You could have killed him!"

"We knew you wouldn't let that happen," the other guy sounded unconcerned, smug, and Danny's fingers flexed on his shoulder. He might have bruises later. Later. Later? Wait...wasn't he supposed to be dead?

"There is no way you could _know_ that. How the hell could you possibly know that?" The fear was back, disguised by bravado and anger. Steve tried to roll over and Danny helped him, pushing him onto his back. "Hey, don't touch him!" Danny's hand was pulled away and Steve opened his eyes in alarm, not having realized he'd closed them, only to find one of the masked men leaning over him with a gun pointed at him (not surprisingly) and a hand roughly pushing up what remained of his shirt.

"No wounds," he announced.

"Incredible," a woman he vaguely remembered being there said softly.

"So do we have a deal?"

"Yes," she answered instantly and Steve looked around blurrily to see Danny being held back, his hands cuffed in front of him and eyes wide as he looked around the group.

"No! No deal!" Danny cut in but shut up the moment the gun that was still pointed at Steve moved a little closer.

"Should we kill him?" One asked and the other shook his head.

"We don't need the extra heat. Just knock him out and drag him under the bush and we'll get out of here. If you struggle," the speaker leveled a hard look at Danny, whose broad shoulders were locked wide in silent protest, "then we'll shoot him again and this time we won't let you fix him. Understand?" Danny nodded silently, his nostrils flaring slightly as he tried to control his breathing.

Steve pushed up on his elbow and began reaching for his leg and the knife concealed under his cargos because having guns pointed at him or not there was no way, _no fucking way_, that they were going to take Danny.

He made it as far as his knee before the butt end of a gun smashed into his temple and crushed his last effort to stop them cold. He was out before his shoulders had even crashed back into the sand.

Tbc.


	7. Shock Value

CHAPTER SIX: Shock Value

-H5O-

Bryce dragged McGarrett's deceivingly heavy body the few meters to the trees and then dumped him under the low-slung palm. It wasn't a perfect hiding place but it would do in a pinch and the chances of someone coming through here in the next half hour and spotting him were slim to none. He looked down at the limp body and belatedly remembered that the man had a cell phone that could, theoretically, be used to track him down. They didn't need any more than a good half hour to make their retreat, but Bryce wasn't willing to take any unnecessary chances. They were already leaving him alive and that was as big a risk as he was willing to take.

He bent down and searched the Commander's pockets, grabbing the cell phone and was about to step away when something in the fold of his blood soaked shirt caught his attention. Leaning forward he realized, with a detached sort of amazement, that what he was looking at was a bullet. He gingerly plucked it from the shirt and looked closer, noting the blood coating the crushed projectile, before pocketing the dirty little thing and finally stepping away. It would be a unique memento.

"Ready?" Eric asked sharply and Bryce nodded, turning back to his brother, Ms. Anook and their prize: Danny Williams in the flesh. Bryce moved to him and performed a thorough pat down, ignoring the grumbled protest and the halfhearted attempt at moving out of reach. Eric had a solid enough grip on the guy, but they both knew it was the gun and the possible future violence towards his partner that kept the shorter but powerfully built man mostly complacent. He didn't have any extra weapons on him, so Bryce liberated his wallet and cell phone and stood quickly, giving the clearing one last look, before taking point and leading their little team towards the beach.

Now that they had Williams he wanted to get the hell off the island and start making their money. They stopped again at the edge of the trees, the stretch of soft sand that met the ocean wasn't very wide here and as far as he could tell nobody was about. They pulled off their masks and Williams response was a heated glare and a visible testing of the cuffs that bound his hands.

"Just remember that we don't need you in perfect working order. Try anything and we won't hesitate to put a bullet through your foot," he warned and the smaller man obediently stopped twisting his wrists.

"Let's go," Eric ordered, prodding Williams out onto the stretch of sand closer to the waters edge. Ms. Anook stuck closely to their side, as planned, her practical sandals easily handling the loose ground and Bryce could tell that she was keeping a tight lid on her interest with their _product_, her features schooled in professional interest only. Bryce paused a moment once they hit the water's edge and threw the mask stuffed with the phones, other masks and the gloves that he and his brother had worn, out as far as he could into the waves. He'd made sure the phones had been turned off, but this extra precaution made him feel more at ease. They started heading down the beach as quickly as they dared, but it was late and the only couple they passed were very much not interested in anything but each other.

"You should not have left the other man alive," Ms. Anook's clipped tone broke into the sound of crashing waves. Beside him Williams stumbled a little and he grabbed roughly under his armpit to keep him on his feet, eyeing him carefully. He was being quiet, his attention focused straight ahead and a look of concentration on his face that made Bryce uneasy. He could be planning something. He tightened his grip in warning.

"We're taking a man who, as you have probably realized by now, carry's a badge and a gun. The minute the HPD realize that one of their officers had been taken they are going to swarm the islands in blue looking for him," he explained quietly, irritated by her tone.

"All the more reason to kill the other man, leave no trace," she pointed out.

"Those masks weren't just to hide our identities incase the video feed to your boss was hacked. We don't need the attention killing a decorated military man would bring." He didn't mention that while he'd wanted to kill him Eric had pointed out that Williams had a reputation for being stubborn and uncooperative when being forced to do something he didn't want to. He'd already proven that he would expose his very, very well hidden talents to save his partner's life, which meant that they could continue to use McGarrett's life against him should he decide to not do as they ordered.

She gave them a considering look before pulling out her phone and typing a text. Williams stumbled again, and it wasn't Bryce's imagination when the man began to lean slightly more into their tight grips despite the gun at his back. He shared a look with Eric, whose eyes just said to keep going. It wasn't far now anyway.

A few minutes later they rounded a copse of jutting palms and the rickety old dock came into view. They were on a small stretch of beach between tourist and local hotspots, chosen specifically because it was as secluded as you could get in this particular area, which was not secluded at all but it was enough to suit their purposes. They moved swiftly to it, stepping onto the washed out wood that was on its last legs and began the short trek to the boat moored at the end.

Williams seemed to come out of whatever fugue he'd been in right as they reached the shiny vehicle and he stopped moving abruptly.

"No," he finally found his voice and turned to glare at Eric. It was kind of pathetic and lacked the vibrancy they had come to expect of him after weeks of surveillance. "This is not a good idea, you don't want to do this."

"Get on the boat," Eric gave him a pointed shove and he stumbled a step forward but caught himself again. Bryce moved forward to drag him the last few steps but the small man still resisted. "We could still go back and finish off your partner," he threatened darkly which earned him a heated glare. Bryce tugged and Eric pushed and a moment later Williams was practically tripping over the edge and onto their not insubstantially sized boat. Eric followed immediately and together they herded him roughly to the tiny cabin under the boat's nose. It was nothing more than a cubbyhole with a mattress, but it had no windows and locked from the outside securely. Williams didn't have time to balk at it as they rushed him down the three steps and tossed him into it. He grunted when he hit the mattress, rolled onto his back, closed his eyes and made no further attempt to move. Bryce locked the door as Eric started the engine and they sped away into the dark.

The woman Marcel had sent out to be the physical witness to the demonstration took a seat at the back of the boat, promptly ignoring them. Bryce didn't particularly like her, sure as hell didn't trust her, but she'd played the part they'd given her well and he could respect her for that, if not for her obviously valued position in Marcel's ranks. He moved to join his brother at the wheel, bracing himself as they hit some of the larger waves before heading out to deeper waters.

"There's something wrong with him," he declared as quietly as he could over the engine and wind and Eric pursed his lips.

"He looked like he was stoned, couldn't keep his feet easily. Must be a side effect of using his mojo. Let him rest for a bit and then get some water and food into him. It'll be hours before we meet up with them. If he's not better by then we'll tell them he still needs to recharge and figure it out from there."

"I don't trust the woman," Bryce declared, giving her a look over his shoulder and seeing that she was still hard at work on her phone.

"I don't trust any of them, but business is business and we need a starting clientele otherwise nobody will believe in our product. Just stay sharp. We do the job, get the money and then head off to the first safe house and figure out what we're going to spend it on," he gave Bryce a huge grin and Bryce returned it whole heartedly. They'd planned and planned and gone over everything five times and the only way this was going to end was with enough money for ten mansions all over the world and a man who would keep them stupidly rich for the rest of their lives.

-H5O-

He blinked back to consciousness when the engine's roar dimmed to a low purr and struggled weakly when two sets of hands dragged him upright and then out onto their boats deck. Squinting he'd glared at them in the predawn sunlight, goose bumps prickling in cool morning air, but they seemed unaffected as they moved about and shoved him onto a cushioned bench along the side. He twisted his wrists in the cuffs uselessly and didn't make it easy when they decided to remove them briefly to strip his outerwear and ordered him to wash Steve's blood off his hands and forearms. He didn't look at the pink hued water in the bucket when he was done and didn't linger too long on thoughts of Steve (please let him be okay), because before he knew it the boat was moving again and this time he knew their destination.

In the distance a large cargo ship loomed closer and closer, the multi-coloured crates stacked high and beginning to shine in the sunlight. Danny watched, trying to look more alert than he felt and keep the threatening nausea under control as the boat jumped the waves. They pulled up to its side, waaaay too close for comfort, and only moments later a big, muscled man climbed down the built in ladder like a monkey and plopped onto the deck.

"I've got your boat," he announced gruffly and thrust what looked like a harness at Danny's dark haired captor before moving to take the wheel from the balding guy. The monkey man made no effort to hide his interest in Danny as he moved past, giving him a long, thoughtful look before turning his attention to keeping their tiny, miniscule vessel from being pulverized against the massive metal hull of the cargo ship. Danny just glared, keeping his lips tightly pressed together because he could recognize when words would be useless. They were useless when it came to Steve (a deathly pale face and blood tinged smile) and maybe he was still reeling over that, because he was definitely still feeling weak from trying to save his life. Weak, dizzy, lethargic, not a good combination on a good day and pretty much disastrous right now.

He tried to unslump from against his seat when the dark haired guy approached with a harness and held it out to Danny.

"Put this on," he ordered, the harness loops dangling in the air and Danny eyed it, then eyed the ladder that they were floating beside that went allllll the way up to the ships deck. At the top he could see two heads bent over the side, watching them, and a bright blue rope with a carabineer was dangling in the air just waiting to be put to use. He looked around the boat, the big guy at the wheel kept glancing over at them, the woman that he felt so betrayed by was giving him a cool, assessing look even as she spoke into her phone, and the two guys who had apparently orchestrated this entire thing were towering over him, their weapons very visible and their calculated threats to Steve very fresh in his mind. It was the ladder or the ocean and Danny wouldn't want to climb that metal monstrosity unaided even if he was feeling like a million bucks so-

"You expect me to put that on with these?" He held out the cuffs pointedly, his wrists visibly red from twisting in them, and the bald guy stepped forward and undid them for the second time that morning quickly and without argument. Danny put the harness on and watched distractedly as the woman gracefully launched herself off the boat and onto the ladder, shimmying up it with ease.

When it was Danny's turn he wasn't anywhere near as graceful, slipping and bashing a knee against a metal rung, almost clipping his chin. He felt the tug of the harness around his legs the entire way up and was stupidly grateful for it because by the time he reached the top his limbs were shaking from the exertion. He hadn't had a chance to recover enough from the marathon healing he'd given Steve and he felt it. When he reached the top, flakes of rust sprinkled across his palms, hands reached out and hauled him over the side and he nearly lost his footing as his body came to grips with the idea of solid ground. Or as solid a ground could be on the water.

"This is him?" Danny looked to a man with a head of dark curly hair, dressed like he was preparing for a business meeting with Donald Trump, and scowled as he looked Danny up and down, like he was a freaking horse at an auction.

"It is," Baldy replied, his grip tightening possessively on Danny's arm.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Mr. Williams," the suit offered with a well meaning smile. "I am Marcel."

"It's _Detective _Williams," he snapped back heatedly and the man's face fell a little at the open hostility. He tisked, his eyes glancing at the cuffs that had been reapplied when the harness had been removed.

"As you wish," he bowed his head and looked at the two men flanking Danny, his original captors. "Mr. Bryce, Mr. Eric, shall we get to it then? I fear my brother will not wait forever."

"Certainly," Mr. Eric, agreed from Danny's left. "We would be glad to go to your brother, just as soon as the first half of our agreed payment has been transferred to our accounts." His tone was as polite as Marcel's, his grip loose on Danny's elbow, and it was all so proper that it made Danny's teeth hurt. But there were cuffs on his wrists, hands bruising his upper arms, and armed men surrounding them that clearly belonged to Marcel. Marcel, who was still watching Danny with undeniable fascination, even as he nodded to his assistant and she pulled out her blackberry, quickly typing into it, before nodding.

"There," Marcel declared with a wide, friendly smile, "the first three million has been transferred as per our agreement. You will receive the second half once my brother has been seen to." He looked to Bryce and Eric as they checked the funds on their own phone but Danny had the distinct impression that his real attention was focused on him. Of course now that Danny had finally figured out what the hell was going on, he kind of wished he'd taken his chances in the Pacific because he wasn't an idiot (unlike the two yahoo's who had discovered him and stolen him in the first place) and he knew what was lurking behind the polite veneer on Marcel's face.

"Agreed, please lead the way to your brother," Eric said easily after a long look at his phone, all professional and confident and clearly a moron. Marcel took the lead with the blond, traitorous, leggy assistant and Eric fell into step beside him for polite small talk as they began what felt like a mile long walk to the aft of the ship. Danny felt dwarfed by all the steel, the sun's heat already beginning to reflect off the painted crates and the wind whipping his hair even more out of place. Behind them three men with partially concealed weapons followed at a respectable distance, closing them in, and Danny couldn't keep his silence any longer.

"Tell me you guys aren't serious about this!" He hissed quietly at the man, Bryce, who still had a firm grip on his arm. He gave Danny a warning look but as no one up ahead turned to acknowledge them Danny continued. "Do you really think that abducting me and selling me to this guy is a good idea? Really?"

"We're not selling you to this guy," Bryce replied just as quietly, giving his arm a tug, "We're selling your services."

"You're serious," Danny muttered incredulously, not a question because he could tell that the moron beside him truly believed that that was what was happening here. "Listen to me," Danny gave him his darkest, most sincere look, "you are not selling anything to this guy. Just look at him! I don't have to know who he is to know that he is the real deal here, not you. As soon as we're done _meeting_ with his brother do you really think he's just going to toss you another three mill, shake your hand and send us on our way? _No_, he isn't. My guess is he'll shoot you and your partner and throw you over the side and then I will be stuck in his graces instead of yours." This was something that actually concerned Danny, because he could recognize that Bryce and Eric were small time criminals who had somehow (How, damn it?) stumbled across his secret and seen dollar signs. Danny could work with small time, because they made mistakes and didn't have the resources or reputation to back up their apparent 'ownership' of him. This Marcel guy wouldn't think twice about taking Danny as his own and then Danny would be in real trouble, because he suspected escaping from this guy was about five million times more difficult than Tweedles' Dee and Dum.

"Keep it to yourself," Bryce snarled, "just do what we tell you and maybe we won't have to make another visit to your partner. And if that's not enough, then maybe your ex-wife and little girl wouldn't mind if we dropped by to say hello." Danny went stiff at the threat, stopping on the spot and turning to face Bryce to let him know exactly what he thought of that idea.

"Problem?" One of their three honour guard asked politely, their progression also halted by Danny's actions. Danny stared at the stubborn set of Bryce's jaw and decided to hell with it; you would severely piss Danny Williams off by threatening the people he cared about, his family, but you did not _ever_ threaten his little girl.

"No problem," Bryce announced calmly and Danny began walking again as he was prodded along, not saying another word. They were met with inquiring looks when they caught up to the rest of the party but everyone was too polite to ask and before Danny knew it he was herded inside the ships four story aft tower and up a metal stairwell until he was finally pushed into a large, ridiculously luxurious room. Sunlight was pouring in through windows on his right, a large, plush couch and wing backed chairs made up a seating area in a corner, a massive flat screen TV that would probably take up an entire wall in Danny's apartment was dark and shiny over the seating area. In the middle of it all was a bed, surrounded by medical machines that Danny recognized but didn't really know the function of.

A man was lying on the bed, almost skeletal thin, his skin papery looking and nearly translucent. He was wearing a warm looking woolen cap and was wrapped in about a thousand blankets. A stern looking man in a white lab coat stood off to the side, eying them all keenly while dutifully checking monitors. Marcel had walked to the side of the bed and was leaning over it, gently holding the man's bony hand.

"I've brought someone to see you, Alfonse," he said softly, a gentle loving smile on his lips. The man, Alfonse, turned his head weakly towards the voice but he didn't open his eyes and a moment later Marcel was standing and looking very expectantly towards Danny. Danny didn't move, looking right back and trying to pretend that he didn't know why he was here. His fingers twitched and he balled up his fists and then the damn blackberry that Eric carried was thrust into his vision and he could see an image of Grace playing in the front yard of Stan and Rachel's massive home, the puppy Stan had bought her chasing her around.

Point taken. It didn't mean Danny had to be gracious about it. He held up his bound wrists and smiled insincerely as he waited for the cuffs to be removed and he was led to the bedside before he really felt ready. The man in the bed was almost as close to dying as Steve had been, Danny could tell he only had days left, maybe hours, and he knew that when he was finished here Danny would be even more helpless than he already was.

He stepped beside the bed and, swallowing back the fear that was becoming engrained in his bones, laid his hands on the dying mans chest and pushed.

When he did this he didn't have fancy medical terms to diagnose someone's illness or a planned method of attack; it was all done by feel, by energy and instinct. Alfonse had something wrong with the basic core of his body, with his ability to fight off illnesses; with his cells. Danny ruthlessly sought out not the cells but the bones, to the marrow, needing to fix the source of the issue first and then, if he had enough energy left afterwards, he would give the body a boost to begin fighting on its own. He worked for a few minutes, his knees growing shaky and a thin sweat coating his entire body. It was too soon, too soon after Grace's friend and after Steve and after too many long nights and not enough decent food and when spots began to dance in front of his eyes Danny pulled his hands away and stumbled back. For a long moment there was nothing but silence.

"Well?" Marcel's cool, lightly accented voice, cut through the air and he was looking at Danny expectantly, the tension clear in the set of his shoulders even if it wasn't on his face.

"Did what I could," Danny mumbled and wondered if he should look for a chair or maybe just sit right there on the floor and breath deeply until the world settled a little.

"Will he live? Will he heal?" Now the man was looking between Danny and the doctor, who was fluttering around the bed and looking at the monitors, frowning.

"His pulse is stronger, his breathing slightly less labored, but I will need to run a few blood samples before I say anything conclusive."

"He'll only improve from here on out," Eric, the idiot, declared confidently and drew Marcel's attention. "I understand that this is a moment of great importance to you, but I'm afraid we have a schedule to keep. If you could please send us the rest of our money then we will be on our way." The floor was looking really good right now and Danny decided that it would probably be a good idea to get a little closer to it before his legs gave out completely. He hunched over and began to lower himself when strong arms caught him from behind. He didn't have the strength to even squawk in protest, but a moment later he was being lowered onto the plush couch he'd eyed earlier. At least someone around here had a bit of common decency.

He cracked open eyelids that had closed and found that he had lost a few moments in time as Bryce and Eric were now being led out of the room at gun point, loudly protesting with red and furious faces. The blond woman was standing off to the side, watching them disappear out the door with little interest before focusing her attention on Marcel, her look softening to the first emotion he'd seen from her since her act as a hostage. So that's how it was.

"Why is my brother not responding to me?" Marcel asked Danny, his blue eyes focused on Alfonse. Danny considered not answering, mainly because it took so much effort, but he could recognize that his survival might just depend on his ability to explain what his new jailer should expect.

"It takes energy to heal," he lifted his hand to help make his point, got about three inches of height before letting it collapse and he rolled his head back against the soft cushions. "People are always tired, the more serious it is the more they'll sleep after. He's jus sleepin," his words began to slur. "Needs t'heal."

Four loud bangs muffled through the walls from somewhere outside. Gun shots. Danny had been expecting something along those lines but still twitched at the understanding that Bryce and Eric would never kidnap anyone else.

"And you are always this weak afterwards?" Marcel was right beside Danny now, too close and too functional and Danny wanted to scream at him to get out of his face and let him go home. Instead he grunted, tried to open his eyes to glare and failed. He felt sick, tired, drained. Sucked dry. He was nothing more than a withered old husk of stretched skin and dust and wanted to wail that everything that was happening to him was wrong.

This is what his parents had been trying to protect him from. This is what he'd spent his life hiding from. This is what he had always feared would happen and as the moments passed he cared less and less until finally he just shut the world out and slept.

-H5O-

His first solid clue that something was wrong came hand in hand with how long it took him to wake up. He'd spent half his life training to be aware the moment Morpheus released him from his grasp, but this time he was slow to shake off an unusual lethargy and finally peel his eyes open. The second clue was the massive pounding in his temple that screamed head injury in a familiar way. The third clue, which took a few too many moments to clue in on, was that he wasn't in his bed, or even inside.

When he finally moved, locking away any sounds of discomfort, he rolled out from under a bush and into a small clearing, swaying up to his knees. He could easily see the shimmer of blue water through the scraggly beach forest, could see a couple of early risers setting out towels and umbrellas on the sand. He took a few deep breaths, trying to figure out what the hell had happened through the pounding in his head, and remembered flashes of masked men in the dark, guns waving around, a woman crying. He rubbed his temple, as if that might help sort the disjointed images out, and his fingers found the sorest point right at his hairline. He hissed and pulled his hand down, seeing a few brownish flakes and a barely there rub of tacky red blood.

Then the slight blur of his vision cleared and he looked beyond his hand to the gray t-shirt he was wearing that was decidedly not gray anymore. His breath skipped, his chest constricting with a moment of remembered agony as he stared in panic at all the blood, still tacky in places from the humidity. Christ. He rubbed at his chest with both hands, fingers digging in a little as he forced himself to take a few steady breaths, before he yanked the nearly stiff clothing off. The dried bits of blood pulled at his chest hair as he tugged it over his head but he didn't notice as he stared down at his chest.

He was covered in blood. His blood. His navel and the crease of his abdominals had thicker smears that were still tacky, where as everywhere else it was just a rosy film. There were no bullet holes. He distinctly remembered the bullets, he remembered the pain and numbness and Danny's face hovering over him with wide and panicked eyes. Danny's hands on his chest, Danny telling him to shut up, Danny saying he was okay now and helping him throw up blood that had come from internal injuries.

Steve swallowed back bile at the remembered taste, the iron still heavy on his tongue and boasting a rotten flavor that he was only just noticing as everything that happened snapped into place. He looked over and eyed the sand where he'd been shot, there was a bit of blood there but not as much as he would have thought. He looked at the shirt in his hands, peeled it open and stared at the two tiny holes caked in brown, and took a few moments to steady himself.

The two men and woman had taken Danny. He couldn't remember much beyond protesting, but he thought his partner was locked in cuffs and he had no idea which way they went. There were too many footsteps from too many people in the sand to track them. The sun was still fairly low, it was maybe o-seven thirty. That meant that Danny had been gone for approximately eight hours. Steve looked down at his chest, looked at the patches of his blood on the ground, and decided on a plan of action.

He ignored the aching tired that lingered in his bones and moved quickly to Danny's car, the keys fortunately still in his pocket. He grabbed his spare t-shirt from the trunk, hiding the bloody one in the back corner. Luckily his cargo's were black, concealing the blood that had seeped into the waistline for him. He took a larger evidence bag back to the scene and carefully filled it with the congealed patches of blood-absorbed sand, leaving a few tiny spots for evidence of his attack. He nearly lost his composure when he saw the small caliber bullet mingled in the pool of bloody sand as he scooped it into the bag, but he forced the emotions back and ignored the rush of dizziness when he stood and moved to Danny's car, hiding the bags along with the shirt in his backpack. When he realized his phone was missing he borrowed one from an early morning jogger who handed it over with an 'oh my god, are you okay?' and placed a call.

In less then five minutes HPD was swarming the place, yellow police tape cordoning off the area Steve showed them, taking his detailed statement, and not giving him an option of saying no when the paramedics arrived, herding him to the back of the ambulance with orders to let them look him over. He could ignore the orders, but he wasn't willing to not document the concussion incase they needed it for evidence later. That didn't mean he let the well meaning medics do anymore than check his head and vitals. Chin and Kono arrived not long after HPD and as soon as Chin finished speaking with the lead detectives he saved Steve from the medics, who were trying to insist he come to the hospital for his head.

Chin drove Danny's car back, Steve sat in the passenger seat and pretended that every turn and every shiny object didn't drive spikes of pain into his brain. Compared to the bullets the headache was a mild tickle. He may have spaced out a bit during the drive, his mind a missive whirl of _how_ and _what the hell_ and _they've got Danny- if he has so much as a scratch when Steve finds him he'll kill them._ He nearly fell out of the car when Chin slowly opened the passenger door, his large warm hand steadying Steve's shoulder and a seriously worried look on his face.

"You sure you shouldn't be at the hospital, Bruddah?"

"I'm good," Steve grunted and hauled himself out of the car. He grabbed the bag and moved as quickly as he dared through the building, so focused on getting the investigation started that he didn't notice any of the looks the white bandage on his forehead received. He didn't notice Chin shake his head at a few officers that wanted to either ask what had happened or had already heard and wanted to offer their help, warning them off because Steve was in no mood for small talk right now. Together they barged into their office and spotted Kono right away, hovering over the table computer with a worried frown on her face.

"Sit rep," he ordered and her frown deepened as she looked over at them.

"HPD is pulling video surveillance of the area and searching for any possible witnesses-"

"There won't be any," he warned.

"-They're pulling the bulb from the parking lots lamp that was by the car. Looks like it was unscrewed as opposed to broken so they're going to try and see if they can get prints off of it," she continued, undaunted by the interruption. "I've pulled up Danny's phone records to see if there's been any unusual calls he hasn't mentioned but so far nothing stands out. That's as far as I've gotten," she finished and gave him a look over, her gaze lingering on his forehead and then on a spot on his neck.

"You want to fill us in on the rest, Brah?" Chin had moved from beside Steve to lean against the table, watching him steadily and Steve could admit that he'd been a bit distracted looking at the image of Danny that had been slotted up on the screen. It was the photo from his personnel file, transferred over from New Jersey to HPD to Five-O and Steve always thought Danny looked bored in it.

"The rest?" he asked distractedly and then looked back at his remaining teammates to see the flash of anger in Chin's eyes and the look of concern grow on Kono's face.

"The rest," Chin demanded, narrowing his eyes and daring Steve to deny there was more. Steve shook himself out of his distraction, shifting a bit so he only saw Danny's picture in his peripheral vision. "As in the things you didn't tell HPD about what happened last night. About where the blood on you neck came from, because it wasn't the head wound," his gaze drifted pointedly to Steve's neck. "And where the blood on the top of your pants came from." Leave it to Chin to have spotted that. "What happened, Steve? The whole truth."

What happened? Steve let out a rough little laugh, knew it sounded more crazy than funny, and rubbed at the apparent blood on his neck that he hadn't thought to check for before calling in the police.

"Steve?" Great, now Chin sounded worried, he was probably planning the quickest way to get Steve to the hospital and Steve couldn't have that.

"What happened?" Steve moved his hand to rub at his chest. "I wish I knew," he huffed and then checked around the room, making sure no one else was around before he unslung his pack and pulled out thet-shirt. He hesitated only a moment before tossing it on the table, sand falling off it and scattering across the screen. "_That_ happened," he waved at the shirt, swallowing thickly at the blood soaked material. Chin eyed it a moment before carefully picking it up where it wasn't soaked in brown and red.

"That's your shirt from last night," Kono reached over and helped Chin spread it out a little in the air.

"Yeah," Steve managed and wondered if now would be a good time to sit down as he was once again overcome by the memory of what had happened. He must be going crazy, his sister always warned him that this could happen but he'd just assumed she was teasing. He was feeling a little spaced out and he kept seeing Danny's wide eyes trying to tell Steve something. Or maybe just trying to stay calm, Steve didn't know.

"Who's blood is this, Steve? Is it Danny's? McGarrett?" Steve looked up from the floor at Chin's snap, shaking his head to focus. Now was not the time to be overwhelmed.

"No, no it's not Danny's. It's mine." He waited as that fact sank in, putting his fiercest 'I'm serious and I dare you not to believe me' look on just incase he needed the backup, because he was well aware that what he was saying didn't make a whole lot of sense. Or any at all.

"It's not yours, Steve," Kono had clearly decided that his concussion was getting to him so he glared at her and her soft, comforting tone, which had the desired effect as she lost the overly concerned look from her eyes and turned to Chin. Chin seemed to be taking this in stride, but that wasn't surprising as the man always took things in stride.

"Tell us what happened," he ordered and Steve finally leaned heavily on the table, rubbing his chest absently.

"They shot me," he explained wearily. "Before they coldcocked me they put two rounds in my chest and watched me bleed." The fear was still there, still real and heavy but he kept it hidden, like he'd been trained, and met his teammates eyes to try and convince them that he hadn't gone around the bend. Kono had found the holes in the shirt, was poking at them carefully.

"You don't look like you've been shot," she swallowed thickly and stepped away from the clothing, letting it hang from Chin's grasp. "Show us."

It took him a second longer than it should have to realize that they weren't dismissing him outright, before he remembered that he had actually expected them to believe him in the end, which was why he was willing to tell them in the first place. He just hadn't expected them to be so quick on the uptake. He looked around again to make sure nobody was about to barge into their offices, before peeling his shirt up to his neck and exposing his chest.

Kono gave a little gasp, stepping forward and reaching out. Because it was Kono he allowed her to touch, even though he couldn't help the slight flinch as her finger pressed in and tried to smear away some of the blood. Unerringly she went directly to where the bullets had entered before she stepped back and wiped her hands on her pants, clearly not aware she was doing it as her eyes scanned his chest.

"Two scars," she announced and he blinked and looked down to examine his skin more closely. All he'd seen before had been blood, but sure enough there were two new scars, small, round and flat, as though he had healed from them years before. He swallowed thickly and dropped his shirt with shaking hands.

"Sit," Chin suddenly ordered and Steve found himself parked in the chair and a moment later a bottle of water was in his hands. He drank the entire thing under his teammates careful supervision, taking a moment to get his bearings back. He watched as Chin and Kono pulled up their own chairs and sat around him, Chin with Steve's bag in his lap and examining the gory bag of red soaked sand before he looked at Steve questioningly. "Danny?"

"Yeah," Steve sighed, sinking deeper into the chair and feeling exhausted like he'd rarely felt before. "Don't know how, don't understand it, but he did something because one minute I'm trying to say goodbye and the next minute he was there helping me remember how to breathe, the pain was gone and there were no holes in my chest. The men who shot me –they expected it," he grimaced and told the rest of the story. Explained about the video camera, the woman agreeing to some sort of a deal after she had verified that Steve was going to live, the way Danny had stood cuffed and silent the last Steve saw him. The more he thought about it the more the fury built.

"What I want to know," Steve finally finished, taking in Kono's pale face and the almost scary calm on Chin's, "is how these guys that grabbed Danny knew he had some…some impossible healing power?" He didn't tag on the fact that he wanted to know why _they_ had known and Steve hadn't. The part of himself he kept detached from people and situations so he could do his job without becoming emotionally compromised told him Danny was protecting himself by keeping the secret. Obviously. He understood that even though they had known each other and worked together for well over a year now Danny had probably intended to take this secret to the grave. It made sense, Steve would do the same thing because lets face it: the idea of someone actually having such an incredible healing ability? It was science fiction! It was unreal and impossible, but apparently Steve was wrong about that and he was well aware of what the US government would do to a man like Danny if they discovered his secret. Hell, what any government would do.

Danny was a walking miracle. Steve tried to wrap his head around that idea. He found it wasn't difficult, it was just ridiculous, but he was a man who accepted facts as they came and it was difficult to disregard it when a friend literally knitted you up from the inside out and pulled you back from death with only the touch of their hands.

It didn't mean Steve liked being left out of the loop. Especially when it came to Danny.

"Whoever grabbed him took enough time to figure out how close you two are," Chin's forehead furrowed as he glanced back at the shirt. "They targeted you as the victim because they knew Danny would break his cover to help you."

"They could have targeted any one of us," Steve agreed and was thankful it was he and not one of them. He wouldn't wish the experience on any friend, and the thought of them targeting Grace? He would eviscerate them.

"They must have been watching him for a while, figuring out who to hit and when. This was too planned to be spur of the moment," Kono had moved to the computer and started tapping away. "They might be on the camera's from around HQ," she didn't sound confident, but it was at least a place to start and Steve nodded in approval.

"Let's get a list started on associates that may have been in a position to know about Danny's…" he hesitated a moment, not sure what to call it or if it should even be named, "…thing. I want to be updated on HPD's part of the investigation regularly, want to see if there's anyone who has a connection to him and Jersey that could be involved in this, I want the last five months of his life pulled apart until we know exactly who thought it would be a good idea to take him," and then Steve would rip them apart and send the message that _nobody_ messes with his haole except him.

"The sketch artist will be here in about half an hour to try and get a picture of the woman you described," Kono announced. "Are we going to tell his ex-wife? What about his adopted family in New Jersey?" She looked over and Steve floundered a moment, because he hadn't even thought of that yet and yes, they would have to tell her and his family what happened. Then he'd have to tell Grace that Steve had lost her daddy but he would do his best to get him back. He wanted to punch something.

What a mess.

"Get a protection detail on Grace and Rachel-and Stan, just in case," he should have ordered that before he'd gotten back to headquarters. "Hidden protection detail, no need to alarm them," he added.

"We'll tell them later, once we know more about what's going on," Chin decided for Steve, giving him a steady look and Steve tried not to appear too grateful as he nodded in agreement. Kono looked like she wanted to protest but thought better of it and suddenly Chin was beside Steve and had a hand on his arm, pulling him to his feet. "You need to shower," Chin ordered and just like that all the dried, tacky blood under his shirt began to itch at his skin and Steve didn't argue. Chin walked beside him all the way to the currently empty locker room and even went so far as to turn the water on in the furthest cubicle for him. Steve shrugged out of his clothes without a care to his nudity, years of being in the military chasing any modesty away, and stepped under the heat gratefully. He hadn't realized how cold he was, and he shuddered under the streaming water. His body unclenched bit by bit as the heat pounded onto his back, his chest, his face and he used it to clean his still rank mouth and scrub at his hair until Chin announced that it was time to get out if they wanted to meet the sketch artist.

Steve blinked back to awareness at the man's warning, realizing that he had leaned against the back wall to let the water pound over his shoulders and had practically fallen asleep on his feet. He stepped out and grabbed the towel Chin had ready, not questioning that his friend had stood guard, that his soiled clothing had been packed away and the spare set he kept in the locker was ready and waiting on the bench for him. He felt better, not calmer, not right, but he was more collected, less in shock. It would be enough until he got Danny back.

"Better?" Chin looked up from his phone and eyed Steve critically. Steve squared his shoulders.

"Better. HPD reported in yet?" He kept his tone cool and clipped.

"So far nobody's seen anything, or if they have they're not talking. They haven't had enough time to do more than scratch the surface but they're widening the search radius."

"Good."

Steve didn't protest when Kono shoved a protein packed smoothie into his hand the moment he stepped back into the office, and he dutifully drank it under her watchful eye in between giving details to the artist until he was satisfied with the image she held up for him to inspect. Chin snatched the paper up and had it distributed to HPD before the artist had even left the office and Steve pulled himself to his feet, glad when the dizziness that had been bothering him earlier didn't reappear. Good enough. It was time to get some work done.

"Feeling better?" Chin materialized by his side as Steve went to his desk and pulled his weapon from the locked drawer, checking it and holstering it with practiced fluidity.

"I'm going to go talk to Rachel," he ignored the question and moved to the door. It was all about forward momentum, because he was going to find Danny but he feared that if he stopped moving now he might not be able to get going again right away.

"I'll go with you," Chin announced, "right after we go see Max." Steve stepped into the elevator and automatically punched the button to the coroner's floor before his brain caught up with him and he frowned.

"We have a body?" he glared, anger at not being informed sooner rising up but just Chin shook his head and gave him another one of his assessing looks. Steve bitterly wondered if the man had learned that look from his father, and then ruthlessly shoved the thought and the guilt it inspired away. Now was definitely not the time for that hidden hurt.

"In a manner of speaking," Chin waited for Steve to step out of the elevator once the doors slid open before following him out. "I want him to check you over." Steve stopped dead in his tracks and whirled around on Chin.

"Check me over?" He dropped his voice, not caring at the anger that leaked through. "Danny is out there, he's out there locked in cuffs with men who have no problems shooting people and they-" he realized that his voice had risen and he dropped it to a near hiss. "They know _things_ about him and you want me to waste time being checked over?"

"Yes," Chin gave him a hard look, "I do. You had the medics on site check your vitals, confirm your concussion and then refused further treatment." Steve opened his mouth to argue but was cut off effectively as Chin pressed his point. "You were _shot_ Steve, twice. Magically healed or not I am not letting you back in the field without a more thorough examination by a doctor," then his lips twitched in a decidedly unhappy way. "Danny would have certain parts of my anatomy displayed in a jar on his desk if I let that happen," he finished, which effectively derailed the refusal Steve was about to give. "He'd never let us hear the end of it, brah."

Steve crossed his arms and stood taller regardless.

"I'm fine, and even if I wasn't how the hell would we explain the sudden need for an examination to Max? He can't know the truth." Chin gave a look that clearly impressed that he wasn't an idiot.

"I want a retake on the vitals, and an O2 check, _then_ we go to Rachel." Steve still hesitated, looking at the door only a few feet away that led to the head pathologist. "The sooner we go, the sooner we leave." Steve clenched his jaw and marched through the door. He didn't get far, stopping almost immediately as he registered that Dr. Bergman was indeed in his lab, standing right in the middle like a statue and staring right at Steve. He must have been standing there looking at the door even before he entered.

"You know how I feel about phones," the man declared and Steve was confused, which wasn't saying much at the moment, but meant that the little bit of patience he was holding onto was beginning to deteriorate.

"Sorry Doc, it was important," Chin answered, moving beside Steve but not distracting the doctor from his apparent staring contest with Steve's –neck?

"Hmmm, yes, so officer Kalakaua said. It has been a while since I've examined a living body," he announced and Steve had no problem believing that. He straightened his posture in silent defense. "Do not worry, I will be gentle. Sit!" Steve glanced at Chin, who looked pointedly at the chair Max had suddenly pulled out, and Steve sat obediently. "You are still in mild shock," the man announced from across the room, his back turned on them as he rummaged through a drawer.

"I am not," Steve protested, exhaustion beginning to weigh him down now that he was sitting.

"You are pale," Max declared, finding what he needed and moving back towards Steve and Chin.

"I spent the night concussed and shoved up under a tree," he explained with irritation, wincing as a light was quickly flashed in his eyes.

"You're skin is damp," Max leaned in closer than was absolutely necessary to peel away the gauze on his forehead and examine the wound.

"I just had a shower," he countered.

"Yes, a very hot one," Max mumbled, grabbing a plastic tube contraption and holding it in front of Steve. "Take a deep breath and exhale as much air as you can into this," Steve took the thing from him and did as told. It made him dizzy. "You are still in mild shock," Max decided again and then made Steve repeat the exercise two more times.

Chin remained leaning against the counter for the entire examination, arms crossed, gaze steady. Ten minutes later, after the fastest and one of the most thorough examinations Steve had ever been subjected to, he was turned loose with the suggestion of rest and the order to eat.

Chin grimly led the way back out into the midmorning sunlight and Steve didn't argue when the man silently slid behind the wheel to Danny's car. Steve woke up suddenly when the car jerked to a stop at Rachel and Stan's home and ignored the way Chin's eyes bore into his back the entire walk up to the front door.

Rachel opened it before Steve even had a chance to knock. She looked to Steve and then Chin and her eyes went wide and watery, her hand moving to cover her mouth in shock and she began to shake her head.

"No, Rachel. No," Steve reached out without thought and gripped her shoulders, ducking his head a little so that he could meet her eyes. "He's not dead, Rachel, understand? He's still alive, he's alive." She inhaled sharply through her nose, blinking the tears that had begun to gather back into submission and after a moment dropped her hand and took a deeper breath.

"I think you had better come in Commander, Detective," she turned and Steve followed her into the cool house. His eyes were immediately drawn to a photo of Grace sitting on the table by the door, and he hoped to god that he hadn't just lied to the mother of that child. Danny was alive. He was alive.

Tbc.

I hope that answered all the questions about the bullets :D Thank you so much for all the absolutely fabulous reviews! I'm not sure if I should be super pleased that I have such observant readers or really nervous about posting the rest of this thing ;) Seriously, you are all wonderful! Seriously.

Cheers!


	8. Play House

CHAPTER SEVEN: Play House

-H5O-

Two days ago Danny had been content with the knowledge that he was moderately happy with his life. It could be better, he had lists of ways that it could be better, but over the last eight years or so he liked to think he had accepted his lot in life and was possibly as happy as he had ever been as an adult. He had found himself a family, as close as he figured he could get without being related by blood, in New Jersey. He had a good job and he had a crappy little apartment that was a far cry better than some of the places he'd run off to hide in as a kid. He lived on a fruit infested tropical island that was still too sunny for his general liking but he was nothing if not adaptable.

Then there were his new friends, friends that he had grown to care about in a disturbingly deep way considering he'd only known them for under two years. Friends that he might, _might,_ have started to consider ohana since the second month he'd known them. This was astounding to him, because he had 'issues.' He knew he had issues. He had issues that surpassed the issues he accused Steve of having at least two times over, and considering how deranged Steve was that was a heavy statement. The difference between him and Steve was that Danny could recognize that he was screwed in the head, Steve just thought everyone else were the ones with a problem. The point was Danny did not just trust people. He did not just accept them as family, let his guard down around them, let them get to know him or hang around his daughter. He did not do that, he did not let people get close, not since Paul and Mattie and their family. Except that apparently he did.

Apparently moving to Hawai'i and losing the only people he'd let close to him since his parents had died meant that he lost a little of that self-preservation instinct that had been introduced to him in childhood. Apparently it made him needy, or maybe the term was lonely and pathetic, but whatever Hawai'i had made him it had given him a second, and much odder, family.

Within that family it had given him Steve McGarrett.

It had given him a man who drove him so insane that Danny wanted to dangle _him_ over the side of a building on a good day. The problem was that Steve would probably welcome it! He'd probably even dare Danny to drop him to prove that he could land on his feet every damn time. Danny had _never_ known anyone who made him so strung out just being in the same vicinity as him, but who also had the ability to calm him down with an imploring look, a word, or a freaking touch. Even on that first day they'd met, guns drawn on each other, arms twisted behind backs and fists in the face, Danny had known there was some kind of connection there. It was instinctive, an innate understanding and ease that hit faster and harder than when Danny had met Paul and become absorbed into his family. Maybe it was the fact that Steve was just as desperate to have a family, to have someone he could depend on, to lean on in his life as Danny was that made it work. Ridiculous? Maybe, but look at Danny's life! So yeah, Steve was a big part of his general contentment in life at the moment, which was all kinds of sad but there you have it. Partners, friends, brothers, whatever: they fit.

The most important thing in the world though, the sun that he revolved around every chance he had, was his Grace. His Grace, whom he would travel across the world for, would seclude and trap himself on a tiny island for, whom he would give up his very existence for. Who had given him a purpose in life more steady than a marriage, more permanent than an adopted family. Who could make him smile just thinking about her.

So yeah, two days ago Danny had been content, maybe even mostly happy, with his life.

Since then he'd had Steve semi-murdered in front of him, been abducted, forced to heal a stranger against his will, abducted _again_, and now he'd been dragged from his dark cell, parked in a chair and subjected to his current 'hosts' idea of socialism.

He stared at the glossy picture that had been neatly laid out before him, and it took everything he had to keep the terror he was feeling off his face.

"Let's talk about your daughter," Marcel said with the politeness of a circling shark and slid the cooling coffee mug closer to Danny, who ignored it just as he had the first time it was offered. He couldn't drink it now anyway, his nausea having doubled since the picture had been laid out. Jesus.

"I don't want you talking about my daughter," he said as calmly as he could, resisting the urge to pick up the photo of her smiling face and hold it to his chest so the people in this room would stop looking at her. "Ever."

"I'm afraid that's just not possible, Mr. Williams." He didn't smile as he watched Danny from across the table. "You see, you must be aware of the fact that you are a man with a very unique skill," Marcel said that like Danny was a freaking world class engineer, "one that I have never heard of outside of fiction. As such I know nearly nothing about you or how your ability to heal works, and I would very much like to know everything I can. It stands to reason that it is genetic," Danny swallowed back his panic. Jesus, this was his worst nightmare come to life. "Which means that your daughter may have your precious skills as well."

"She doesn't," Danny refuted instantly, it came out as more of a snarl than words, but he leaned forward instinctively to try and make his point. "It's not a genetic trait, the only healing she'll ever be able to do will involve bandages and antiseptics and I wouldn't have it any other way. You hearing what I'm telling you, Marcel? She doesn't have a lick of this thing in her and if you go near her so help you, I'll-"

"Relax, Mr. Williams," he held up a placating hand, but it did nothing but amp up Danny's agitation. Marcel hadn't stopped staring at him since he'd been shoved into this room and he was still watching him with sharp eyes, categorizing his every movement. Danny stared right back. "From this statement I can assume that you have done the appropriate testing to ensure that that's the case, that your daughter really doesn't have the abilities you possess?"

"No testing necessary," Danny snarled, figuring that at this point only the truth could help. "I started manifesting the _ability_," he had to swallow around labeling himself in such a way, "when I was about five. Neither of my parents had the skill and Grace would have started showing it years ago. She does not have it. She never will. Even if she did have it, it wouldn't matter because if you so much as think about touching a single hair on her head-"

"There's no need to resort to threats Mr. Williams, I have no intention of going anywhere near your child. I'm not a monster. Even if she did have your powers I would never entertain the notion of taking her at such a young age. As well, you have done me a great service by healing my brother. He already shows remarkable improvement even though he still sleeps on, and as payment I will stay far and clear of your daughter and her mother. Of this, you have my promise."

"Forgive me if that doesn't mean squat from where I'm sitting," Danny growled and leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms and hiding his clenching fists.

"It means little to me how you feel about this situation," Marcels tone sharpened and the woman standing behind him glared at Danny for upsetting her boss. Danny glared at her, and then did a double take as he looked closer. She had long silky brown hair, her eyes were a deep brown and the very noticeable mole she'd had at the corner of her mouth was missing, but she was the same woman that had trapped him in this hell to begin with. She looked completely different now. Shit. She gave him a cool look, like she was reading his mind, before turning her attention back to her boss.

Great, and there went the one reliable suspect description Steve would have had. Fantastic.

"You have a gift and I want to know more about it, and that is the bottom line. The more you choose to work with us, the easier your life will be, but make no mistake Mr. Williams: this is where you will remain until I say otherwise."

"I'm not known for being cooperative," Danny warned him, because it was only fair that they knew he wasn't going to make this easy. At least not until they actually threatened his daughter, and while he suspected that Marcel was aware that Danny would strip to his birth suit and table dance for him if it meant keeping Grace safe he also had the feeling that the man wouldn't go back on his promise. At least he prayed that was the case.

"As I expected," Marcel replied with a perfect cinematic smile. "Of course I have many ways of ensuring your cooperation." The photo was promptly collected by the Cindy Crawford wannabe. "We will be arriving in Shanghai in approximately six days, where I have an acquaintance who is in need of your services. Will you be sufficiently, how shall we call it, recharged by then?"

"No," Danny answered just to be difficult. Shanghai! He was so very, very screwed. There was no way Steve or the team could find him like this. A floating prison, with a guy who was no doubt shipping containers that were probably stuffed with not-so-legal merchandise and most likely had the connections to smuggle Danny anywhere he chose to.

"I would hope for your sake that you are," Marcel didn't seem overly concerned either way.

"That's your master plan? Pimp me out to the highest bidders? What's to say that your next John won't have the same payment plan in mind that you had for the guys that so graciously introduced us?" Marcel smiled coolly and finally, _finally_, looked away to the woman behind him.

"Anook, if you would kindly prepare my office for the conference call I have scheduled and alert me when they are ready. I will be remaining with Mr. Williams and Dr. Smidt until they are ready."

"Of course," she agreed and practically floated from the room. Marcel looked back at Danny, his interest not at all hidden by his cool stare or clipped, accented tones.

"If you will, Mr. Williams." Marcel stood from his seat and Danny remained exactly where he was, until two sets of hands grabbed him and hauled him to his feet. Danny shoved one of the men a step to the side but otherwise didn't dislodge either of them, which was probably a good thing because the sudden change in height gave him a sense of vertigo that was just not normal. "We have an appointment with the doctor," Marcel insisted. He was already around the long table and moving towards the door, clearly expecting Danny to follow, which was a given with the two thugs at his side directing his movement.

He stumbled slightly as they moved down a narrow hall and into a stairwell that traversed the entire seven stories of the ships tower. They moved down two flights and then down another echoing hall before dragging him into what was clearly a well stocked infirmary. There was a narrow window along the back wall that showed nothing but darkness outside. Great, Danny had lost an entire day after he'd passed out, which hadn't happened to him since he was a kid. He'd be more concerned about this but he felt he had more pressing matters as he eyed the man in the lab coat who approached them as they entered. It was the same man that had been monitoring Alfonse's condition. Taking note of the overly eager gleam in his eye Danny could safely say he'd changed his tune about him since their last meeting.

"I had a check up last month, so I think I'm good," Danny straightened his shoulders and watched the doctor's every move.

"Nonsense," Marcel rebuked and moved to sit in the cushy chair by the desk, once again staring at Danny and steepling his fingers in front of him. "You can never have too many examinations, though I do fear this one may be more comprehensive than you're used to. Please make an effort to answer all of the questions you are asked as fully as possible.

"Yeah, right," Danny glared and Dr. Smidt approached, holding out a blue garment.

"If you could put this on please, it will make this much easier," he asked, his accent almost too heavy to understand the words through. Danny eyed the material, eyed the doctor and very deliberately did not take it.

"You can put it on yourself Mr. Williams, or I can call for additional assistance to help you," Marcel kept staring.

"Are you going to at least let me go behind a curtain or something? Try to preserve my dignity?" Danny glared, because he could see that he wasn't going to have much choice here, but that didn't make it any easier as he snatched the material from Smidt's outstretched hand.

"No," Marcel answered flatly, "your dignity does not concern me." Danny glared at him a long moment seeing the truth in the dark gaze, and when he finally gave in and stripped down to his underwear, quickly slipping the ridiculous gown on, he made sure he kept glaring at Marcel the entire time and forced the humiliation of the act deep down where he wouldn't have to acknowledge it. This wasn't about feelings any more, it was about survival, and Danny had always been a survivor.

"I understand that you have had your healing abilities from a young age?" The doctor started, waving Danny to the examination table leaning against the back wall. With gritted teeth and two armed thugs blocking the only exit and watching his every move he went to it. At least it was cushioned. Smidt frowned at him when he didn't answer but didn't seem deterred as he approached and wound a BP cuff tightly around Danny's bicep. Danny had to dig down deep to resist knocking the guy on his ass, but the urge must have shown on his face as one of the hired guns shifted.

"I can understand your reluctance to participate here, Mr. Williams, but if there is anything that you can tell me about your abilities, about how they work, how they make you feel…" he trailed off to mark his blood pressure down and moved on to prepare a syringe for drawing blood. "I understand the bare minimum behind the concept of biofield energy healing but what you're capable of accomplishing is so far beyond anything that has been known, let alone scientifically acknowledged, that I'm not certain they relate. I noticed earlier that you utilized physical contact while aiding Alfonse. Is this contact absolutely necessary or can you also use distant healing?" He clipped a tourniquet in place, loosening it a little so it could fit around Danny's arm, sterilized the area and slid the needle into place so smoothly Danny barely felt the prick. Danny wasn't surprised at how quickly the little vials he had ready filled with blood considering his blood pressure was probably so high he was just waiting for his veins to start bursting.

"Mr. Williams, answer the man's questions," Marcel urged softly, which set warning bells off in Danny's head quicker than when Steve announced that he had a plan. He looked over to see the man still watching him, no surprise there, but this time there was no mistaking the warning in his eyes, the glitter of intensity that suggested he was done messing around and that this was the moment for Danny to either cooperate, or be forced to cooperate. Danny wasn't intimidated…oh screw that, yes he was intimidated as hell. He'd have to be insane not to be. He also knew when to pick his fights, and right now a fight would be counterproductive. His lips curled back in displeasure and he met Marcel's stare for a long moment before breaking contact in defeat and focused back on the doctor's movements.

"Contact is necessary," he ground out through clenched teeth.

"How interesting."

-H5O-

Steve prowled around his office in endless circles, fists clenched and shoulders so square he could have been used as a measuring level for shelves. Through the glass windows separating his personal domain from the rest of the office he could see Chin and Kono bent over the main computers, throwing pictures onto the wall screens and just as quickly disregarding them. They'd been meticulously digging through all the possible suspects that they could think of in relation to Danny and while they were learning a lot of impressive facts about Danny's history as an officer they still weren't any closer to finding an answer they desperately needed.

It had been four days.

Steve abruptly stopped and pressed both hands onto his desk, bowing his head in an effort to control the rage that was boiling inside at their lack of progress, at their lack of answers. HPD had come up with _nothing_ in their investigation into Danny's kidnapping. Surveillance tapes hadn't caught any of the drama, the circulated photo of the woman had produced no hits, the only blood trace at the scene had been Steve's and the area was too heavily trafficked during the day to even get a shoe size of the abductors.

HPD were scratching their heads as to why no ransom demands had been released, assuming that Danny might have been taken due to his involvement with Rachel and Stan even though it was a stretch. Any possible connections that may have been related to cases Danny had worked in Jersey, be it related to organized crime factions he'd been involved in taking down or revenge from any number of unrelated convictions he'd been a key component in, were coming up empty. That didn't even begin to include his time as an officer of the Honolulu police and then member of Five-O. Four days was not a long time at all as far as such investigations went, with an arrest record like Danny's it could take months, maybe even years to properly investigate every nook and cranny and completely rule it out. Forty-eight hours, the crucial timeframe law enforcement assigned to finding an abducted individual still alive and unharmed, had come and gone.

The circumstances around Danny's snatch and grab were different though, the variables skewed. The HPD were floundering as to why Danny would be targeted, while Steve, Chin and Kono knew exactly why he'd been targeted but couldn't disclose the information. Not even to Governor Jameson, whom had given Steve full support to find Danny, had been demanding updates on the search every six hours, had been grimly encouraging and even had meals delivered to his team on three separate occasions. On the one occasion she had personally stopped by for a progress report, just catching the team as they came in from a bout of fruitless inquiries to their snitches, she had watched Steve with an unerringly sharp gaze, one that told him she suspected they were keeping something from her. She hadn't asked though, and he wouldn't have told, but his respect for her had grown just a fraction more as she had simply stated that she expected them to do their jobs and bring their man back before letting them get back to it.

Fat lot of good it had done them so far.

Steve took a deep breath. The headache from his concussion had been stubbornly sticking around, but thankfully the dizziness and nausea had cleared up the day before. He took another breath, calming the anger and fear and locking it away again. They'd been working non-stop at this for days, his remaining teammates were practically sleeping on their feet, their nerves were frazzled and they were exhausted. Steve walked back out to the main office hub and glanced at a picture of a strung out junkie on the plasma just as her image and arrest records were swept away. Kono looked up at him and gave a tight little nod.

"Still nothing boss. We've gone through most of the records from Jersey but if Danny has ever used his secret mojo on the perps he arrested then, or on the victims he helped, then it was never anything of note," she rolled her shoulders and rubbed at her red eyes. Chin straightened beside her and crossed his arms. Looking at him you wouldn't think he was tired at all, eyes bright, clothes unruffled, but the way he leaned against the desk, like it was the only thing supporting him, was enough of a sign that they needed a break. A real one. Steve's chest felt tight.

"Its possible he didn't know he could..._help_ people when he was there," Chin suggested even though the frown on his face belied that he didn't believe the words.

"No," Steve shook his head, "he's been able to do this for a _long_ time." He remembered how easily Danny had fallen to his side to help him, how instinctive the move had been, how practiced his hands were as they pressed into his skin. He'd _felt_ him work. But that wasn't what convinced Steve that Danny has known about his ability for a long time, for a lifetime. No, he was convinced because of how well Danny had never let on about it, how he had kept something that was clearly instinctive to him so successfully hidden. That kind of skill takes a lifetime of practice and adaptation.

"I don't think we're going to find anything useful from his career in New Jersey," Chin looked back at the computer. "I've pulled up the records of all the cops he's been partnered with, long term and temporarily. His last partner before moving to Hawai'i, Detective Jamal Warner, was stabbed in the thigh during one of their busts and had a documented concussion during their partnership. I contacted him to see if he had any information for us and it turns out he and Danny were pretty close, close enough that Danny nearly took a bullet for him once by stepping between him and a gun, close enough that he stood as groomsman at his wedding. Warner still has the occasional severe cramping that acts up due to the knife wound." Steve frowned at this bit of information.

"They were partnered together for three years," Kono continued softly and then leaned forward to briefly rub at her knee. "Danny's been with us just over a year and he's used his ability on all of us."

"All of us?" Steve narrowed his gaze as he looked between them, silently demanding an explanation. Kono gave him an exasperated look he probably deserved.

"My knee didn't just magically start working again by itself, brah. At first I thought I was just having a few good rides, then I was trying moves on the board that I hadn't attempted since the pros, it wasn't worth it before, the pain always warned me off. I called up my surgeon and asked if it was normal a few weeks ago and he did a scan: said it was the most successful recovery he's ever seen, said he wouldn't have believed I'd ever been injured in the first place except for the fact that he did the surgeries himself."

"And you linked this to Danny?" Steve asked and she shrugged.

"Not at first, not at all really until you told us that you'd been shot and showed us the shirt," Steve rubbed unconsciously at his chest, missing Chin's observant gaze following his hand. "I've been thinking about it the last four days, I figure he must have done it that time I twisted in the gym, remember? I thought for sure I was axed, and then I wasn't. It threw me, but I was too grateful to really look closely, but I remember Danny put his hand on my leg to comfort me brah and now I'm good."

"He helped you too?" He looked at Chin, who gave a little nod.

"Think so. Nothing big, just feeling better as a general rule. I don't know if he's aware that he did anything."

"Okay," Steve frowned, thinking about what they were hinting at and not sure how he felt about it. On one hand knowing that Danny trusted him, trusted them all, enough to start using his abilities in a way he had theoretically not done in Jersey settled deep in Steve's bones and triggered a sense of possessiveness that might worry him if he wasted time pondering it. On the other hand, it meant that Danny had openly risked exposing his abilities only after coming to Hawai'i (and meeting them?) and that somehow in that time he had been discovered, which had led to his abduction and Steve's part as a tool to expose his skill. Steve wanted to hit something all over again.

"Forget about Jersey then, let HPD keep running those checks. He must have exposed the ability while working with us. If we can figure out when this happened maybe we can link it to someone who would have seen and had the resources to organize the grab," he rubbed his chest again. "After," he spoke up as the two began to turn back to the table, "you go home, shower, and get some rest." It practically killed him to say it, and clearly Chin and Kono weren't keen on the idea if the dark looks they gave him were any indication, but he was the boss and he had to look out for all of his people. He couldn't afford to hurt them in the process of finding Danny, it was unacceptable.

"Boss-" Kono started and shut-up at the look he shot her.

"No arguments. Shower, bed, food. I don't care what order. Be back here in six hours."

"I had cots brought up from storage," Chin was crossing his arms again, but this time the action carried a stubbornness that rivaled Steve's own, "and the showers here have excellent pressure." Steve ground his teeth, and then relented maybe a bit quicker than he should have.

"Fine, but if I see you out of those beds a minute before the six hours is up I'll have you escorted home for some real rest, understood?"

"Yes, sir!" Kono snapped off, clearly falling back on her academy training as there wasn't a single hint of sarcasm in her tone. She was off to her office and said cot a moment later.

"What about you?" Chin asked.

"Grace sent me a text," Steve sighed, feeling the weight on his shoulders more heavily than most of his operations in the SEALs had sat. That was the reason he'd needed to retreat to his office not too long ago, to gather his calm. "I'm going to head over and give her a visit, and then I'll get some rest to," he confirmed and Chin's frown grew.

"You've had less rest than both of us."

"I'm trained for this," Steve glared, daring Chin to argue further. Being the smart man that he was Chin relented, holding his hands out in surrender even though he still gazed disapprovingly at Steve. Steve wondered at how similar that look was to the one his dad had given him growing up as a child. With a last knowing look Chin moved to the hall, and no doubt the locker room and showers. Steve didn't waste time heading out of the building, his step not faltering as he bypassed Danny's Camaro in favour of his truck; it didn't feel right driving the sleek silver car without his friend around to bitch about it yet. It didn't take long at all to pull up in front of Rachel and Stan's home, and he nodded at the woman in the unmarked patrol vehicle a few cars down, before heading up the pathway at a speed only fractionally slower than a run.

He didn't have to wait long after ringing the bell. Stan opened the door, immaculate as always but with bags under his eyes that spoke of long nights sitting up with the women of Danny's life, trying to comfort them.

"Commander," he didn't sound surprised to see him and stepped aside quickly to let him in.

"Stan," Steve grunted. "Grace around?"

"Yes, she's outback," he led the way through the familiar foyer down a hall to the kitchen and out onto the large stone patio. The sunlight reflected cheerfully off the unused pool, a few large plant pots boasted boldly coloured hibiscus trees in full bloom. Rachel sat at the glass patio table, a large white sunhat shading her shoulders and a glass of pink juice and ice sat beside the computer she was working on. The moment Steve stepped onto the patio she looked up and the relief on her face was quickly covered up by a wary smile as she stood to greet him.

"Commander," she approached, her hands twisting together anxiously.

"Rachel," he looked around the yard, taking quick note of the additional security cameras that had been installed since they had used Rachel and Stan's home for surveillance all those months ago. "Grace texted me," he quickly headed off her question about the investigation and hated the way her eyes dimmed as she realized that he wasn't there with good news about Danny. "She wanted to know if Danny went away because of her," he explained and followed Rachel's gaze to the little play house tucked away in the corner of the yard, outstretched trees swamping it in shade.

"I expected her to take the news that her father was missing badly, but she's been nearly inconsolable," Rachel revealed. She looked as exhausted as Steve felt but she squared her shoulders and looked back to him. "Thank you for coming," her propriety coming to the forefront in a way that irritated Steve, because of course he would come: Grace was Danny's little girl and Danny was family, which made Grace his family. His affront must have shown because Rachel looked slightly startled but regained her composure quickly and waved towards the little playhouse. "She's in there, if you would like to speak with her."

Steve nodded and moved swiftly across the yard to the little building and stopped at the door. He told himself he was pausing because he was taking a moment to figure out how he was going to fit inside, seeing as the door came up to his waist, and not because he had no idea what he could possibly say to comfort Danny's kid. _Suck it up McGarrett! Your SEAL team would be embarrassed to know you right now_! He thought ruefully and then allowed a small smile to tickle his lips: clearly his former navy teammates had never had to deal with the wrath of Danny Williams. He knocked lightly on the purple plastic door, spying Grace peeking out of the tiny window to his left.

"Grace? It's Uncle Steve, can I come in?" He crouched down just in time for her to open the door and she backed away quickly to the other side of the small structure. A quick survey told him that crouching wouldn't be enough and he dropped further to his hands and knees and crawled through the door. There were a lot of toys in the room, a small fake kitchen counter with a bowl of plastic fruit, a plastic bucket with several pairs of Barbie feet and one set of mermaid fins sticking out of the top, a stuffed unicorn, and various items a child would need to play house. It was all shoved aside to the back wall, out of the way, which gave him just enough room to crawl a few feet forward and sit down on the thin carpet that covered the grass. He recognized the carpet, Danny had bought it for her on a whim a few months ago. Steve remembered because it was a stunning shade of pink that should never find its way into a man's car and it had gleefully sat on Danny's back seat for an entire week before he was able to give it to his daughter.

"Close the door," Grace ordered, her voice quiet and urgent and Steve obeyed without thought, leaning over to pull at the purple handle until the hollow plastic covering slid into place, darkening the room to a dull purple and pink atmosphere. He looked at the little girl that sat across the small space from him, a plastic table with paper and crayons the only thing separating them, and frowned at the tears that were threatening to fall from her eyes. Her chin trembled and she hugged herself but, in a true testament to her parents own stubbornness, she refused to cry as she watched him carefully.

He had no idea what to do. He crossed his legs and leaned forward trying for comforting and having no idea if he was pulling it off.

"Grace, I want you to listen very carefully to me, okay?" He internally frowned and softened his voice a little more, feeling way too loud in the small space. "Are you listening?" He checked and when she nodded minutely he smiled softly. "Good, because what I have to say is very important: Danno," he paused to make sure that she was really paying attention, "loves you. He loves you very, very much and he would _never, never ever_ leave because of you. _Never_," he emphasized again just to be sure she heard him. "He's just gone for a little while right now but I know he would do anything to be back here with you because he loves you so much. Remember, he moved all the way to Hawai'i just so he could be close to you, and there is no way that you could ever be the reason he left. Do you understand, Grace?" She sniffled and hugged herself a little tighter and he was overcome with the urge to shove the table out of the way and just hug her. He resisted, sensing that he needed to wait her out here.

"I h-heard mommy and Step-Stan saying that he's been gone too long. Mommy didn't know what she would do i-if Danno doesn't come back."

"I'm going to bring him back, Gracie." He pushed the table out of his way, to hell with it, and gently gripped her shoulders, knowing that he shouldn't be making this promise but unable to resist it. "I'm going to find Danno and bring him back and then he will tell you all about how much he missed you and how much he loves you, okay?" He barely got the last word out before she launched herself bodily at him, wrapping her tiny little arms around him and burying her face in his neck. He absorbed the impact with ease, holding her close and twisting so that he could lean back against the hard plastic wall and stretch his legs out in the tiny space, toes just touching the opposite wall. She was hiccupping now, and he felt a deep, unreasonable anger at Rachel and Stan for not checking if Grace was around before talking about Danny. Rachel had told Steve that she didn't want Grace to know what was really happening, not until they had to tell her; she should have been more careful.

He wrapped his arms a little tighter around the child, wondering at how frail she felt, wanting to protect her.

"He left because of me," she cried into his shoulder and he sighed, clearly she hadn't understood what he'd been trying to tell her, too distraught to hear him.

"No," he whispered into her hair, "no he didn't Grace, he loves you and he would never leave because of you."

"Y-y-yes he woulllld," she cried wetly. "He t-told me not to tell anyone! He told me! And I almost did and now he h-ha-hates me," she choked a little and sniffled loudly before the distressed hiccupping continued.

"He doesn't hate you, Grace," he repeated, bouncing her a little in his lap. She was almost too big for that. "He loves you, no matter what you think you did wrong."

"H-He told me that if people found out they might take him away, that I had to keep it a secret because, because he was special and he only wanted to share how special he was with meee," she snorted and he felt the wet trail of tears and possibly more on his neck but he ignored it as he suddenly, sharply, understood what she was saying.

"You're right Grace, Danno is very special, but you didn't tell anyone his secret and he didn't leave because of you," he said softly and she froze against him suddenly, holding her breath for a moment before the heavy breathing started again.

"You know?" she sounded so afraid, so unsure and in that moment he was also pissed at Danny, because seriously, how could he put such a big secret on such a little girl's shoulders?

"I know," he whispered back.

"No, you don't," she sounded angry now and made to push away but he didn't let her go, keeping her tucked in tight.

"I do, Gracie. I got hurt a little while ago, and Danno…he didn't like seeing me so hurt so he helped me get better." She stopped her struggles to get away and thought about what he said. He looked down and could see her red nose scrunched up in thought. After a long moment she went back to hugging him, but this time it felt different, not as desperate.

"You must have been _really_ hurt," she decided with unconditional certainty. "Danno doesn't tell anybody but _me_ about his superpower, not even mom knows," she sniffled again and clung tighter. "I'm glad you're okay," she whispered.

"So am I," he rubbed his cheek against her hair, swallowed thickly, and finally let the relief at being alive flood through him. He'd been keeping it locked away for days, forcing the pain and fear and absolute certainty that his life had been literally moments away from ending deep inside so he could deal with the crises at hand. His final moments had been peaceful, he distinctly remembered being at ease, floating, accepting of his fate, but when he'd come back from the brink all he had remembered was the pain, the shock of it, the near devastating end and it had been terrifying and overwhelming and he hadn't wanted to truly acknowledge what had happened.

He had a second chance. This wasn't a joke or a figment of his imagination, this was real and he had a second chance. It wasn't over, it hadn't all ended before he was ready, and he felt relief.

God, he loved the Williams. Danny and his child would be the true death of him and, somehow, he was more than okay with that.

"Grace," he said softly, "how long have you known about how special your dad is?"

"Forever," she mumbled, sliding down in his lap a bit and snuggling against his chest. "Once, when I was _really _little, I fell on a bottle and broke it. I remember because I broke it with my face," she said with the frankness of a child long removed from the pain. "The glass got in my eye and I couldn't see anything because it was really deep and Danno said I probably never would have been able to see again if he'd taken me to the hospital. He says that doctors are really really good at their jobs, but he loved me too much to wait for their help so he fixed me. He said that I was the first person he fixed since he was a little boy, and that he would always fix me if he could, but I had to promise to not tell anyone, ever." Steve leaned his head back and closed his eyes, like it could block the horrible images from his mind. "I didn't mean to tell," she whispered again, hiccupping lightly but the sobs stayed away. Understanding bloomed in his mind as connections snapped and remade themselves and he remembered the day, not even two weeks ago, that Grace had come crying into the office and demanding Danny help her friend.

"Is your friend okay?" He asked, even though he already knew the answer, because if one thing in this world was absolute it was that Danny couldn't deny his little girl anything.

"Yeah. The doctors said that she had broken her back, that she shouldn't be able to move her legs, but she can even though she's still all broken. Danno always saves the day."

"Seems like it," he grinned at the conviction. "And it's not your fault that Danno left, you didn't tell anyone his secret, but we'll have to be a bit more careful when he's back. We'll keep it between us."

"'kay," she mumbled, clearly falling asleep and nodded, glad that she seemed to have calmed down, that she was feeling better. He'd leave in a few minutes and let her get some real rest. "I'm glad you know Uncle Steve," she mumbled and he shifted a bit to get more comfortable, glad the little plastic house wasn't tipping from his weight.

"Yeah? Why's that?"

"Because Danno protects other people, and now you can protect him. He'd like that," her words slurred at the end as she finally drifted off to sleep, the stress and emotions finally getting to her. He swallowed thickly, breathing in the stuffy hot air of their house.

"Yeah," Steve agreed softly, "so would I." Between one moment and the next he finally drifted off to sleep.

-H5O—

Tbc.

I could not resist a scene between Danno's little girl and Steve, I'm just not that strong ;)


	9. Foreign Affairs

CHAPTER EIGHT: Foreign Affairs

-H5O-

Travelling on a ship was hell. Danny had come to that conclusion the moment he'd climbed unwillingly onboard, but he had since realized that the small swells that had rocked the motorboat he'd initially been on, and made boarding such a challenge that first day, had been nothing more than an afterthought on the mighty Pacific.

Whoever thought travelling by ship was a good idea probably also thought that cheese in a can and spray on condoms were worthy of a Noble Prize.

Obviously cruise ships catered to fun times and incorporated stabilizers that tried to soften the roiling blow of the wild waters, but cargo ships were working ships and its seafaring crews either adapted to the continuous rise and fall of the ship through the swells, or they got out of the business. Danny wanted out. Out, off, up, whatever, he didn't want to be on the ship and its lack of solid ground anymore. There was a reason he wasn't a water person, there was a reason he avoided going on the cruise tours with Grace and the nice catamaran trip when Kamekono's cousin had offered, and it was because he did not have a stomach for the sea.

Even looking at waves made him uneasy, their rolling, crushing power, and their ability to drag down and swallow and never give up their victims. He wasn't a moron, he knew where this deep-seated fear/dislike came from but he'd been getting better, he had been. Steve's love of the water, his confidence in it, Kono and Chin's own love and respect for the ocean, their encouragement (see: relentless teasing) had helped him grudgingly attack his fears and make an attempt at controlling them. Hell, he'd even taken up a few surfing lessons with Kono, granted he hadn't made it past the beach yet, but she was patient and seemed to understand he needed his time. But being on the water was killing him.

When he'd woken up and been subjected to Marcel's idea of hospitality, been introduced to Dr. Smidt, he'd been moderately seasick but he'd had other more pressing matters to contend with. Once they'd finished their idea of a medical, one which he was very much never going to think of or acknowledge he had been part of again, they'd locked him back in his windowless 'room' and he'd figured he'd spend a day or so lying around and his body would acclimatize to the ocean.

Looks like another joke was on him.

He'd barely managed to keep a full meal down a day. They hadn't wanted to give him meds the first few days, not wanting to interfere with his blood chemistry or something stupid like that. Instead they'd slapped white sea bands on his wrists to attack some mystical acupressure point that apparently made motion sickness tolerable. When it got to the point that he couldn't keep liquids down and dehydration might become a severe problem they'd gone straight to the heavy duty meds and slapped a scopolamine skin patch behind his ear.

The nausea had eventually eased, allowing him to keep down more liquid and light meals, but his vision had been a bit blurry and he'd slept a solid twenty four hours. When he woke up he'd peeled the patch off and refused to replace it. He'd take the continual breaking of his personal upchuck record any day over losing time. They'd compromised with a tiny white Sturgeron pill, which kept the seasickness to a mild continual nausea that he could handle (after the incapacitating illness of before this was a freaking walk in the park).

Between all this the continual questions about his abilities, the tests, the constant observation, it was driving him crazy and it had only been a week. Needles to say when the water had finally calmed as they began approaching Shanghai he was almost relieved about the reprieve, except that the arrival at the port meant that it was time to meet his 'client,' and that was definitely not something he was looking forward to.

"Ready?" The heavily accented voice of the Doctor called for his attention and he looked towards the door of the plush recreational room they had sequestered him in for the morning. Smidt was waiting expectantly, a bag already on the bolted down sleek mahogany table in the room, and Will and Johann loomed in their usual spot by the door, dressed in unusually sharp suits, guarding him.

He'd been sitting on the couch staring at the blank TV screen for the better part of three hours and he had been reveling in their attempts to not appear bored out of their minds. They weren't bored anymore, now they were alert and watching him, waiting for a moment of rebellion that they could pounce on and tame. Danny frowned.

"We haven't docked at port yet," he made no effort to get up from the couch.

"Our appointment will not keep with our docking schedule," Smidt waved impatiently, gesturing for Danny to get up and cooperate. Danny didn't move. "This is not the time to be stubborn, Mr. Williams."

"_Detective_ Williams," he corrected for the hundredth time. Smidt narrowed his eyes impatiently.

"We have to prepare you for your appointment," he repeated and Danny turned away from him to glare disinterestedly at the blank TV once again. He heard and then saw as Will and Johan moved to collect him with practiced choreography and he lunged from his chair, managing a decent fist to Will's gut before his arms were grabbed and secured behind him with the padded cuffs they'd taken to carrying around especially for him. Apparently Marcel didn't like Danny's wrists to be decorated in shades of purple. He didn't struggle after that, not having the energy and knowing that he would probably end up doing Marcel's bidding at some point today regardless. He had to pick and choose his battles here.

"I don't know why you make it so difficult for yourself," Smidt tsked disappointedly as he made quick work of unbuttoning the black shirt Danny had been given to wear that morning. Danny merely glared at him as the man pulled out the wireless electrodes he was such a fan of and quickly pressed their sticky sides onto Danny's patchy shaved skin. When the sensors were where he wanted them the doctor quickly re-buttoned his shirt and tugged it into place, effectively hiding them while Danny glared over his shoulder. "There, now if we could please?" He gestured towards the still open door and Will, the thug he liked least of the two guards, gave him a little push to get moving.

"I'm going, but you know I might move faster without the restraints," he grumbled. He expected to head to the stairs that would take them down to the ships deck, but instead they kept moving down the corridor, passed doors to rooms he hadn't yet been in, until he was pushed out a door and into direct sunlight for the first time in what felt like forever. It pierced right into his brain and he turned his head to the ground and squinted as his eyes adjusted.

"Ah, Mr. Williams, feeling better I hope," Marcel's smooth voice mixed with the distant cry of seagulls and the cool wind whipping off the oceans surface. Danny gave him a look that he hoped displayed how stupid he thought the notion was.

"There's definitely room for improvement," he jangled the cuffs behind his back pointedly and Marcel's lips quirked before his features smoothed out and he gave a directive nod to Danny's guards. A moment later his wrists were released and Danny ran a hand through his hair, sweeping it back into place and looking around, distracted as the distant thumping he had heard was growing louder and louder. Everything was too bright, too sharp, and he realized with trepidation that he was standing on a helicopter landing pad. "We going far?" he asked, doing his best to come across as unconcerned but Marcel's little knowing smile told him that he wasn't fooling anyone.

"Ah, Anook, just in time," Marcel smiled, ignoring his question, and held out his hand as the woman in question joined them on the heli-pad. She handed over a thin black bag and Marcel untied its dainty little strings before pulling out a mask. He looked it over, flipping it in his hand before nodding. "Very nice," he gave her a nod and she stood taller in satisfaction even as she watched Danny coolly. Marcel flipped it over again, its black surface gleaming in the sun and held it out to Danny, who made no attempt to take it.

"We going to a ball? I didn't know China was a fan of Mardi Gras," Marcel sighed at Danny's apparent lack of appreciation.

"It is to protect your identity. You have rather distinctive characteristics Mr. Williams, I do not wish for our clientele to have a way to identify you in the future."

"Right, because it'll be so difficult to find me on your luxury cargo ship if they decided they wanted a piece of the action," he snapped sarcastically.

"That is not your concern, but I do believe that you are intelligent enough to understand the necessity of keeping your anonymity," he held the mask out once more. "Wear it, Mr. Williams." Danny pressed his lips together in anger, breathed deeply through his nose to control the temper he wanted to unleash, snatched the mask from the outstretched fingers and pulled it on. It covered the upper half of his face, sweeping low across his cheeks, fitting perfectly as the elastic pulled tight across the back of his head. He bet he looked like a Phantom of the Opera reject. "The hat as well," Marcel was staring at him again as Danny snatched the proffered black hat from Anook and glared at it.

"A fedora? Really?"

"We could always shave your head, dye your hair," Marcel had to raise his voice over the approaching helicopters' din but still managed to convey a lack of concern either way. At least the approach of the chopper drew his attention so he wasn't staring at Danny with his stupidly blue eyes. Danny put the black hat on and then held it in place while the chopper landed and he was herded onto it and pressed into the center seat, Will and Johann settling in on both sides. He closed his eyes during the ride, adjusting to the different type of movement and not caring that he was missing out on seeing Shanghai in person for the first time: this was not the way he had wanted to see the city.

One thing he could say was that the helicopter was definitely designed for comfort and easily fit his five-person escort alongside. Upon landing a third guard, gussied up the same way Will and Johann were, joined them on the tarmac from the helicopters front seat. Danny didn't have any difficulty spotting the telltale bulges of weaponry underneath his black suit. He didn't have much time to assess him though, as a group of equally well-dressed men approached them from the obscenely tall building's roof door.

There was a lot of bowing and friendly greetings as the helicopter rotors slowly stopped turning and the pilot disembarked and leaned against its side, already looking bored but alert. The man in charge of the meet and greet was smiling politely as he and Marcel exchanged pleasantries and it was all very business like and proper and professional enough that he didn't once acknowledge anyone in their party but Marcel before leading the way into the building.

Danny stumbled the first few steps, not quite used to the solid ground and Johann gripped his arm tightly to steady him, giving him a warning look as two of the Chinese guards eyed him curiously, gaze lingering on the mask that already made Danny's face feel overly warm. They were led through a towering hall of glass, sunlight and flowing vertical slate fountains. They didn't pass a single person who wasn't a part of their group. At least it was air-conditioned; the humidity outside was worse than Hawai'i before a tropical storm.

"Please," the spokesperson that matched Danny in height waved them through a door and into a lounge filled with sharp leather chairs and couches, a bar, and more of the water fountains flowing in several key positions around the room. The only wall that wasn't made of windows looking out upon the city was taken up by a giant silk scroll painting of mountains and trees. It looked very, very old behind its spotless glass covering. "Please, make yourselves comfortable," he gestured towards the seats before he, Marcel, and Anook disappeared through another wall.

Then a half hour of stony silence commenced as Danny's three armed guards and the Doctor took up position in seats around him protectively (he was laughing on the inside at the irony, really) while trying to appear nonchalant as they stared down the three armed men of the Chinese faction left in the room with them.

The only time anyone spoke was when Danny asked for a ginger ale, no ice, with a slice of lime, just to see if they would oblige. It barely took sixty seconds before the drink was in hand, the guard who had retrieved it for him taking care not to meet his gaze as he delivered it. After that the only sound in the room was the obnoxious slurping he decided to partake in, which was worth it when he spotted the slight tightening of Will's fist every time he drank. Danny didn't mind silence, he could do silence for ages when it suited him, so he wasn't too thrilled when Marcel and his apparent business associate emerged from their meeting.

"We are ready to proceed," the excessively polite host announced, finally looking upon Danny, his curiosity and doubt clear for a moment before being hidden once again behind a polite façade. "If you will please follow me, Mr. Jiang is waiting." Danny thought about making a fuss, but with every eye on the room watching him closely, even if not directly, he recognized a lost cause when he saw one. He clunked the glass on the table, missing the coaster by a good foot, pushed to his feet, feeling every year of his not so significant age, and followed.

Mr. Jiang was older, maybe mid-sixties, and surrounded by family members that looked suspiciously upon them the moment they entered the room. Marcel was unfazed, Smidt moved to a side table to pull out some equipment he used to monitor and record the information he wanted from Danny, and Danny was pressed to the side of the bed.

There was some last minute rapid fire exchange between a younger, hard looking man who must have been Jiang's son, Jiang's Doctor, and the Host, as Danny had decided to call the man who had greeted them upon arrival. The son did not look impressed, glaring icily between Danny and the Host. He backed down when Jiang, weak but apparently still aware enough to remain in charge, snapped something from his bed before turning his watery eyes on Danny and beckoning for him to begin.

"He has cancer," the Host paused beside Danny at the foot of the bed, speaking softly but very clearly, his accent barely discernable. "Dr. Yao only discovered it two weeks ago, but this discovery has come too late, conventional treatments will not work, he has been given days to live." Danny frowned, looking over Jiang as his wife watched him stonily from the other side of the bed. Cancer. Danny took a breath to steady his nerves, and gather his energy, his fingertips already tingling like they always did when around severe illness.

Cancer didn't seem right.

Behind him Marcel sniffed, a subtle warning to get on with it. Danny had been well versed that morning in all the reasons why he shouldn't fuck this up.

"Cancer-" he mumbled to himself under his breath, finally moving right beside Jiang, taking in his sickly complexion, seeing the high intelligence watching him from tired, pained eyes. Danny reached out, hesitating when the son stepped forward to protest again, probably spouting off things about false hope and tricks, which is what Danny would have done as well in his place, but another sharp wave from Jiang's hand silenced him again.

"Go on," the dying man rasped and then wrapped his fingers around Danny's outstretched wrist and pulled until Danny's hand was flat on his fever moistened chest. It was Danny's turn to flinch, he did not like being touched that way, and Jiang seemed to understand as he let go quickly. Danny swallowed, closed his eyes, and did his thing.

It only took minutes, and when he finally straightened and pulled away, dizzy and once again tired beyond reason, Jiang was already looking a hundred times better. Alfonse's leukemia was the only cancer Danny had ever healed, it had been bone deep and integrated into the body to the point where rapid, instant recovery was impossible. Danny didn't know if that was the way it would always be with healing cancer, or if it should be a quick fix like severe burns, broken limbs, or brain trauma. He did know one thing though, as he stepped shakily back from the table to see Jiang already trying to tiredly sit up, clearly feeling better and staring at Danny like he was Buddah's reincarnation.

"That wasn't cancer," he announced softly, stepping further out of the way as Jiang frowned and the ever strong grip he recognized as Johann's wrapped around his bicep to steady him, fingers digging in.

"It was," Jiang's doctor insisted into the suddenly quiet room looking rapidly between Danny and Jiang.

"No," Danny shook his head to try and clear it, "no it was something else. Something toxic, foreign. Poison?" He wasn't expecting the ferocity of the son's temper as soon as the words left his lips.

"You lie!" He snapped sharply, approaching with clear contempt and Danny jerked back, not having the energy to defend himself right now, but the Host was quicker than either of them and Danny's guards, placing himself between Danny and the son with a fluidity that was not to be messed with. The son instantly backed off, turning to Jiang who was pulling off the medical lines and pushing to his feet, a dark, steely look on his face.

"What do you mean, poison?" Jiang's voice was stronger now, the tension in the room thick as he stared at Danny trustingly, like he would believe anything Danny said simply because he had healed him. Actually, that was a pretty good reason for trust. Danny wondered if he could use that to get these guys to free him from Marcel.

"I mean poison," Danny shrugged. "Deadly, but it wasn't incurable I don't think, not if it was treated quickly." Jiang's doctor paled as his boss's intense dark eyes turned to stare at him. He bowed his head in submission a moment later and Danny, a little slow admittedly, clued into the implications of what he was saying. To be fair it had been a long week and Danny wasn't at his best.

"You would believe the words of this lying foreign dog?" the son once again spoke up, fury evident but also the beginning of panic as he looked around the room as though seeking support. Oh buddy, not the brightest ember in the fire.

"I do believe that is our cue to leave," Marcel spoke calmly and just like that Danny was pulled from the room, closely surrounded by Marcel's armed goons and marched brusquely back the way they had come.

"Mr. Marcel," the Host called out only moments from the door that would lead them to the helicopter that Danny could already hear warming up. Marcel stopped and turned to the man, a pleasant smile on his face, which grew more satisfied as he acknowledged that the Host had come after them alone. "Please, Mr. Jiang would like to thank you for your honourable services," he bowed deeply and Marcel returned it in good form. Danny's hopes at being aided by these people evaporated as the Host didn't even spare him a glance, back to formality.

"There is no need for thanks, our transaction has been completed in full. We wish Mr. Jiang a speedy return to full health." Host looked like he wanted to argue, to insist that they come back so Jiang could thank them more officially, but after a look shared with Marcel he backed off knowingly.

"Then please, allow me to escort you to your flight," and he did just that.

Danny collapsed into the seat, tired and shaky and not at all enthused about returning to the ship. He ignored the pleased congratulations Marcel gave him for uncovering Jiang's sons plan on an apparently hostile takeover of the family business, speculating on what future gift Jiang would no doubt bestow on them for the additional, unexpected service.

Danny couldn't care less. He closed his eyes and pretended to sleep, arms crossed over his chest protectively.

He felt the heavy stare of Marcel the entire trip back to the ship, felt it as he was escorted with caution back to his windowless room somewhere in the center of the tower. Felt it even after he was left alone and the lights had shut off, curling up in the bed with his back pressed against the cold wall. He pushed all thoughts and feelings out of his head and thought about the two things that would make this all better: his team, and Grace.

-H5O-

When Danny woke up an indeterminate amount of time later his skin crawled and he felt sick in a way that had nothing to do with the motion of the ocean. He'd been used; he felt dirty in a way that helping people had never made him feel before. He couldn't just wait around anymore for someone else to come and rescue him, he couldn't. When the door finally opened he was ready and the person on the other side was not. He took them out with an upper cut that would make Steve proud and dragged their unresponsive body into his cell in a weak attempt to hide them.

He made it up and searched three floors, finally getting the control room in his sights when he was taken down from behind. He didn't make it easy for the attacker, the rage and helplessness he'd been carrying for over a week was unleashed and he left bruises that wouldn't fade for some time, but he never made it to the control rooms radio. He never got a chance to send out a distress, to tell anyone who was listening that he was there.

Turns out it probably wouldn't have mattered anyway, because by that time they'd left Shanghai far enough behind that it was barely a speck on the horizon.

This time when he entered unconsciousness it had more to do with the fact that his head bounced off the wall than the fact that he needed the healing sleep.

Tbc.


	10. Danny Williams

Warning: graphic depictions of injury.

CHAPTER NINE: Danny Williams

-H5O-

_The tickle of water splashing his face was what finally roused him, yanking him from a blank void into a cold, aching hell that shot terror straight into his heart and sucked the breath from his chest. He lay where he was, crumpled and afraid to shift and find out what was wrong with his body, watching numbly as the rain fell hard enough outside to spray through the car's broken window. It took a long moment for awareness to shift into understanding, and he realized he was still in the car, but the car was upside down, a small stream leaking across its ceiling as he lay there._

_Car. Upside down. Crash. The lightning flashed outside, the boom of thunder near deafening. Between the rumbling noise he heard a soft, distressed sound. Oh God- his family! Clenching his teeth he ignored the searing pain in his arm and turned his head to see the rest of the car. The entire thing creaked and shifted slightly from the small movement and he froze. Nothing could have prepared him for the horror of seeing his wife, his dear sweet angel, hanging upside down from the driver's seat, still buckled in place, eyes wide and sightless in the dark around him. Dead. Gone._

_A searing pain lanced through his entire being, an overwhelming flood of destitution and he weakly reached out to brush his fingers along her still warm face, no longer caring that the vehicle groaned at the movement. He groaned right along with it._

"_Dad?" the muffled sob was so quiet he almost didn't hear it and for the second time in a minute his heart stopped beating, this time in sheer relief._

"_Daniel," he yanked his gaze away from Sarah, ruthlessly swallowing back bile, and looked towards the back of the car to his boy. "Danny," he nearly sobbed the name and a fresh wave of pain rushed through him as Danny kept staring at the back of his mother's head. _

"_Mom's not waking up," Danny whispered, the rain pounding into the car making it hard to hear, but he heard enough and didn't bother to stop the tears as they came._

"_Danny," he said more forcefully this time, ignoring the hitch in the middle, "look at me," he ordered/pleaded. It was a long moment but Danny finally looked to him, his face mostly hidden in the dark, but there was enough light from the dashboard, from the reflective brake lights, to show his outline. To show the whites of his eyes. He blinked in the darkness, willing to see his son better. The car shifted and slid a little, metal against rock screeching unnaturally and Danny didn't scream so much as suck back a sob, just like he did when he was having a nightmare. Paul tried to smile supportively, knowing that if his son could see him it wouldn't comfort him at all._

"_Danny, Danny you need to tell me if you're hurt," he pleaded and made to move forward, to reach him. That was when he realized that it was more than just his arm that was injured in the crash. He bit through his lip viciously to keep from screaming, unable to hold back the whimper of pain that speared his entire leg and up his side, and didn't notice the new warm blood running over his chin as he sucked in lungs full of salty ocean air. When the dizziness cleared a bit a moment later he risked a glance over his shoulder, as much as he could, and quickly turned back to face Danny. He distantly wondered at how severely dislocated his hip and knee must be in order for his leg to be stuck under the dashboard while his body lay face down on the roof of the car. Maybe they were just broken to the point of jelly._

_He decided to ignore it as the world fritzed in and out, bold neon colours highlighting the overturned vehicles innards. He could see Sarah's hand lying limp not far from his face, wrist just resting on the ceiling._

"_Dad," Danny cried out, snapping his focus back to him. He wondered how many times his boy had called for him._

"_Danny," he blinked heavily, looking at the prone form of his son. Something didn't seem right, but that could be the shock talking. "Danny, you need to tell me if you're hurt," he ordered again, trying for steady and unable to help falling short. "Danny!"_

"_I can't- can't feel my legs Dad," Danny whimpered, and suddenly the way he was lying, his legs flopped together and too motionless compared to the rest of him, made sense. "Can't move," he trailed off and this time the sobs he had grown so good at holding back these last few years, let loose._

_Paralyzed. His son had broken something in his back. Broken._

_The car shifted again, only a few inches but enough that he finally looked out the glassless window beside him, and right down the side of a very tall cliff. Jesus H Christ. He yanked his eyes away from the massive waves toiling far below, the brief flash of lightning doing more than enough to explain exactly how much worse this devastation could get._

_Danny sobbed again, and Paul looked back at him. Paul was stuck, the car was shifting, his mind quickly sped past the memory of Sarah's body hanging almost right overtop of him, and Danny was broken._

_He had to get Danny out of the car. Save Danny. He could do that, he could save his boy. He reached out to Danny with his good arm, ignoring the crumbled glass that shifted around him._

"_Danny, Danny take my hand," he said softly, regaining his boys attention from his mother. "Danny, I need you to listen to me very carefully," he implored as he wrapped his fingers around his boys tiny, tiny trembling ones. "Remember that time we were playing ball and you ran into the swing set and cut your arm?" He held onto Danny's hand a little harder as the boy shifted a little, but thankfully didn't start healing Paul. Paul didn't know what he would have done if Danny had started doing that, didn't know if he would have been able to let go as his boy chased away the pain and effectively hurt himself. "Remember?" He urged, swallowing impulsively as lightning lit up the cab. Danny's face was smeared red and why hadn't they been wearing seatbelts? He thought of Sarah and then pushed it from his mind._

"_Y-yeah," Danny whispered back, and it was enough._

"_Remember how you fixed yourself, how you borrowed something from me and made the cut disappear?" Danny nodded in the dark, he could just see it, and the relief it brought him calmed something deep within Paul. It stilled the terror, chased away the pain, made the world clear. He could do this, he could save his son._

"_Danny, I need you to do that now, okay?" He squeezed a little tighter when Danny made a halfhearted effort to pull his hand away, too tired to really struggle. _

"_No," he mumbled, "No-"_

"_Yes, Danny. It's okay, it'll be okay, you just need to take as much from me as you need to heal your legs okay? Make sure that you're legs work properly again and then I need you to crawl out that window beside you and go get help."_

"_No-" Danny sobbed again, choking a little. Paul understood, he did: that one time Danny had taken whatever it was he'd needed to heal himself had made Paul pretty much useless for two entire days. It had nearly killed him. Danny had been afraid to touch him, touch anyone, for a month after that. His son was young, but he was smart, he knew that taking from Paul now would put him in a bad way. He was going to do it anyway, Paul would make sure of that._

"_Yes Danny, listen to me! I am your father and I am telling you to heal yourself, take anything you need from me, take everything, but you will fix your legs and go get help. Understand?" He got no reply. "Danny, understand!"_

"_Yeah," he mumbled, a bit of his stubbornness leaking through the fear and nearly had Paul laughing hysterically._

"_Hey, you remember the address of the man we were going to meet?" Paul asked suddenly, blinking as the world lost a little clarity._

"_Yes."_

"_Good. He's expecting us. You go to him, okay? Once you've gotten some help you go to him. Promise?"_

"_Promise," he sniffled loud enough to be heard over the storm raging around them._

"_Good, that's good Danny. I love you, okay? I love you so, so much and I want you to heal yourself now. It's okay," he encouraged his boy, getting a little desperate now as time was passing too quickly. He needed Danny out of the car now. "Do it, please Danny, do it." Danny didn't say anything for a long moment, and then he didn't need to. The warm rush that Paul had grown so familiar with whenever his son fixed one of his hurts tingled through his chest, his shoulders, flowed down his arm and then he could feel it as it leapt from him. He could feel it as it was absorbed into Danny, as he willed it into Danny. He didn't remember the first time, Danny was too young, had no control, but now he'd grown a little, understood more, and it made a difference Paul thought. He felt the rush of giving, of knowing he was helping, and wondered if this aching, tired joy was what Danny felt every time._

_Before he knew it his hand grew limp, and it was Danny clinging to him now, calling his name, crying and shaking his whole arm to get his attention. Paul opened eyes he didn't realize he'd closed, lifted his cheek from the dirty, glass strewn ceiling he was lying on and pretended that it didn't take everything he had to move._

"_How's that Danny," he didn't notice that his words slurred as he spoke. "You fixed? You can feel yer legs?" It was very important he knew that._

"_Yeah Dad, they can move again," he didn't sound happy about it. "Dad, you need to move now," he tugged at his hand again. "You need to get out of the car."_

"_I will Danny, I will," he tried to squeeze Danny's hand in reassurance and wasn't sure if he managed. He just wanted to sleep. "After you," he ordered, but Danny didn't let go of him and the jolt of the car shifting violently, screaming as something at the front broke, just like his leg, just like his life. "Danny, out of the car now, you need to go, get help," he urged, willing to say anything to get him gone. "Get out and get help."_

"_Dad-"_

"_Now Danny! Do as I say!" He snapped and felt a deep regret as Danny yanked his hand from his own and began clumsily, thank God, crawling to the broken window that lay behind his mom. He didn't stop until he was out of the car, just like he was told, and then he turned back and looked through the window at Paul._

"_Love you Danny," Paul muttered, hoping he was loud enough to be heard, and then watched as his son's shadowed form disappeared, hopefully heading back up the slope to the road and safety. Safe. Paul smiled and with his last bit of strength reached out and grabbed at Sarah's hand, managing to grip two fingers in his own, before closing his eyes to sleep._

_He didn't hear the final screech of metal against rock, or feel the lift of gravity as the car finally lost its battle with the elements and slipped over the cliff._

_He was long gone by the time the storm cleared and the dull brightness of morning cast a desolate glow over the world and over the little boy who sat huddled at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves that had taken his family._

_He was nothing but a memory by the time Danny stumbled back to his feet, nearly tripping over the cliff himself, and began the three mile hike to the next town, and discovered that he was good at lying as he begged his way onto bus after bus, claiming lost tickets and that his family was waiting for him, until he reached the address his parents had made him memorize._

_The man who opened the door to him didn't do much for him. He looked him over with a heavy sigh and drove him to a convenience store on the other side of town with orders to go inside and tell the woman behind the counter that he was lost. He did leave him with one thing though, which was nothing more than a torn transformers wallet with three dollars and a beat up copy of a forged social security card that told the police his name._

_That was how Danny Williams was born._

-H5O-

It took almost two weeks before the first inkling of a break in the case made an appearance. Two weeks where the criminal elements of Honolulu were laying as low as they possibly could as the fury that was widely known as Steve McGarrett, closely assisted by his remaining teammates, was unleashed. Steve didn't have the patience to smooth talk people into telling him what he wanted to know, which was no different than usual, but now it was fueled with an energy that hadn't been seen outside the most dire covert ops that he wasn't allowed to acknowledge existed.

Chin had taken to removing various new weaponry from Danny's Camaro every morning before heading up to the office to find Steve hunched over the computer table or making demands into a phone. Later, when Steve would go to the car to retrieve said weaponry Chin would very pointedly not back down from the angry glare Steve sent his way when his plans to force the populace to bend to his will were thwarted. The criminal population had no idea what had happened to Danny, that was becoming very, very clear as they threw out the white flags before Five-O even entered their various domains and expressed their very sincere regret at not being able to help.

Chin was worried as hell about Danny, was doing everything he could think of to help, but Steve was taking it to a new level and the Governor was beginning to hint that their team should start thinking about taking on some small cases along with the search for their missing man. The moment she'd suggested that via conference video Chin had reached out and grabbed Steve's shoulder, squeezing the tension hardened muscle forcefully to keep him from saying, or doing, something he would regret once they got Danny back. Like quitting and going on the hunt alone.

That wasn't happening on Chin's watch.

He stood hunched over the table when the office phone rang and looked over to see Steve seated behind his desk, shoulders hunched, head bowed and cellphone up to his ear. Chin didn't need to be told that it was Grace on the other end of the line making her daily after school phone call to Uncle Steve. She was the only one who could force him to bow his head and sit still for twenty minutes while she spoke about who knew what to the SEAL. Danny would be so proud of his little girl. Chin swallowed back the tightness in his throat and reached for the still ringing phone, Kono having gone to get them some real coffee from down the street, the place that sold it by the piping hot ten-cup box.

"Detective Kelly," he announced into the receiver.

"_Good afternoon Detective, is Detective Williams around?"_ he pinched the bridge of his nose and took a breath to stave off the inevitable frustration. They'd been trying to keep news of Danny's disappearance on the relative down low from the general public, but getting these calls the last two weeks had been hard.

"No he's not. Can I take a message?" He looked to make sure Steve was still in his office, now grinning tiredly at something Grace was saying.

"_Detective Williams has requested that any further information on the ongoing investigation into the Hoffman trial be forwarded to him directly," _she sounded young and slightly unsure if she should say anything to him and for all Chin prided himself on his patience he wasn't really feeling it right now.

"Detective Williams and I are partners, tell me what it is and I'll pass along the message."

"_Of course Detective Kelly. One of the men matching the description of Rachel Edwards carjackers was identified in Lanai this morning. His prints identified him as Bryce Smith, a Honolulu local with a minor rap sheet and no convictions."_

"Okay," Chin frowned, because he knew a few of the details from that day but he and the rest of the team had been fairly busy trying to save a witness from assassins. Of course Danny would be interested in the case as it had placed his daughter and ex in danger. "Is he being shipped back to Honolulu for charges?"

"_No, sorry Detective I'm not being very clear," _she gave a little nervous giggle that he wasn't accustomed to being on the receiving end of. _"Bryce Smith is dead. A fisherman off Lanai's coast recovered his body thirteen days ago. There was a mishap with the bolo put out on the sketch Mrs. Edwards provided and their department was slower than we would like to connect the dots, but it has been confirmed that he was involved in the Edward case. Mr. William's will be glad to know at least one of the two men have been found."_

"Right, I'm sure he will. Thank you for relaying the information Miss?"

"_Oh, Abbey, Rain Abbey, and please wish the detective luck when he takes the stand_."

"I will," he hung up and stared at the phone.

"News?" Kono asked, the perpetual worry frown between her eyes was in place as she deposited the coffee box and mugs on the side table and Chin pursed his lips.

"I'm not sure," he eyed the coffee and chose to forego it for now and moved swiftly to the main computer. "You know anything about the Hoffman case?"

"Beyond the fact that he had something to do with Grace's carjacking?" Kono moved up beside him.

"They just found the body of one of the jackers. He's been dead two weeks, found off the coast of Lanai," he informed as he began accessing the files available through the system. "Danny wanted to be kept informed."

"As if he would let something like that go," she snorted, almost sounding normal and he spared her a quick glance to see her looking intently at the files.

"Danny's standing at the trial," he explained, finding what he was looking for and pulling it up.

"He never mentioned it," she frowned and Chin nodded: Danny hadn't mentioned it, at all. He found the main case report and began reading. It didn't take long to find what he was looking for and he dropped his head in frustration.

"What is it?" Steve demanded, pulling away from where he'd been leaning against the wall the last few minutes, his laser focus on Chin the whole time. The man had a sixth sense for when important information was uprooted.

"Danny was the one who produced the evidence in the fraud case against Hoffman, confiscated it from Stan and submitted it. It's damning evidence and Hoffman will get time for it, but its Danny's testimony that will put him away for the long haul. Danny was very emphatic about wanting to be at that trial." Chin looked over at Steve, who's tired face was visibly upset. Pissed off to be more precise.

"He never said a thing to me," Steve growled.

"I know I'm missing something here, but what's the deal?" Kono looked up from the file and Chin was struck with how young she was. He forgot, sometimes, that she had only been on the force for a year.

"Hoffman's big time, big money. He had enough riding on the tapes that Stan recorded to send armed men after it. Once the tapes were submitted as evidence he could, theoretically, decide that it would be better if Danny didn't show up to the trial because he would have a greater possibility of getting through the trial with minimal or even no jail time."

"You think he'd put a hit on Danny? Is he that stupid?"

"Or is he that desperate and used to getting his own way," Chin closed the files and logged out of the system. "If Danny thought he was a threat he didn't mention it, which means he probably did something that he felt would keep the guy off his back."

"Or he really didn't think there was a threat," Kono pointed out.

"Danny's an idiot," Steve growled and turned to stalk out of the room. "Always riding my ass about procedure and playing it safe and doesn't even tell us he could be in a potentially dangerous position." Chin wisely didn't say what they were all thinking: that Danny was apparently someone who used a lot of words to tell them very little about anything. Chin almost felt sorry for the guy, because Steve was _not_ going to make their reunion easy that was for damn sure.

"We going to Hoffman?" Kono asked as they followed Steve's fast walk from the building.

"We're going to Hoffman," Chin agreed. It could be nothing, but they were desperate and unwilling to leave any more stones unturned. Steve drove calmly through the streets and Chin kept looking at the muscles clenching in his jaw, wondering if dental work would be on the menu once Danny was back. Wondering if Danny could just fix it with a touch. He swallowed thickly at the thought, still uncertain how to react about that revelation, figuring for the most part nothing would change in the day to day. Knowing that some things would never be the same.

Steve was already slowly packing up Danny's crappy little apartment box by box. Chin knew because he'd gone by to help a few nights ago when sleep wasn't enticing enough. They'd started in the bedroom, getting Danny's clothes packed away, being careful not to wrinkle the ironed shirts and ties.

There were four boxes already parked in Steve's hallway, outside the spare bedroom that was being completely emptied out of Steve's childhood memorabilia to make way for Danny. Steve had been eying the wall that separated the room from his sisters and Chin was waiting for it to disappear, wondering if the extra space would make the transition easier for Danny. No. Danny wasn't going to like the fact that his residence and privacy had been shifted without his say so. Not happy at all.

Chin was going to back Steve up on this one though, because Danny needed the protection, whether he believed it or not. He'd learn to deal, because Chin figured it was that or put up with McGarrett camping out at his box of an apartment pretty much every night. Hawai'i might not survive the resulting explosion.

Still, the calm car ride said more about Steve's state of mind than the silence.

They arrived at the detainment center where Hoffman was being held while he awaited his trial date. No option for bail because of the suspicion that he'd hired armed men to terrorize Grace and Rachel. The guards barely blinked at the Five-O credentials waved in their face, leading the group to an empty meeting room with nothing more than a table, chairs, and a two-way mirror.

"You have recording options for this room?" Chin asked the guard and the man nodded, saying he'd get a tech there immediately. He and Kono went behind the glass partition, watching as Steve prowled around the table for a few minutes before leaning against the wall and relaxing his entire body. He looked casual, comfortable, and it didn't take long for the tech to show and make sure things were in order.

"Can you keep the sound off for now, just record the image?" Chin ordered more than asked but the tech nodded eagerly, clearly excited to be working with Five-O. When Hoffman was escorted into the room and pressed into a chair he looked haughty and irritated. Orange was not a good colour on him and he glared at Steve, clearly not recognizing him and not caring. Steve smiled politely and shifted to face Hoffman, his back to the camera, and leaning slightly over the table. It didn't look menacing from behind.

It took a few words to catch the housing commissioners undivided attention. After a minute or so the housing commissioner paled, two red cheeks the only colour on his face, and then a thin sheen of sweat appeared around his hairline. He swallowed thickly, staring at Steve with wide, disbelieving eyes, and began nodding eagerly. Steve leaned back in the chair.

"You can begin recording sound now," Chin ordered and the tech did so, pressing a few buttons and the conversation playing out filtered into the viewing room.

"You want me to call your lawyer?" Steve asked, calm and cool like they were talking about the weather. Hoffman looked like he was thinking about it, for all of three seconds, before he shook his head and roughly cleared his throat.

"No, no that won't be necessary," he shifted in his seat and Steve leaned back further, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You understand that this meeting is being recorded?" Steve asked with the same calm.

"Yes," Hoffman swallowed thickly, glancing briefly over Steve's shoulder at the mirror Chin and Kono were behind, "Yes I understand." He looked like he was going to be sick.

"You have some information for me regarding Stan Edwards' fraud case and Detective Danny Williams' participation in it?" Steve delivered flatly, but there was no mistaking the undertone that demanded the truth.

"Yes, I do." He hesitated here but Steve didn't prod him to continue, he just waited silently, and Hoffman got to the point pretty quickly, despite the fact that he looked like he was in pain. "I hired two men to search Stan Edwards vehicle and home for tapes that- that would prove that I have been abusing my position as housing commissioner with blackmail for personal monetary gain."

"Is this one of the men you hired?" Steve swiftly pulled out his phone and displayed the photo of Smith that Chin had beamed him on their trip here. Hoffman swallowed and nodded.

"Yes."

"Let the record show that the image is of Bryce Smith," Steve tucked the phone away. "What else?" It wasn't so much a question as a demand.

"Detective Williams," Hoffman stopped again and really started to look nervous now, the sweat more pronounced, his face more ruddy, "met up with me the day of the carjacking and informed me that he had taken custody of the tapes that I was trying, trying to obtain. I understood that he would be submitting them as evidence against me, and that it wouldn't be long before I was a-arrested, so I- I…"

"You what?" There was no mistaking the coldness in Steve's tone now and Chin clenched his fists tightly as he imagined where this was going.

"I hired Smith and his associate to take care of Detective Williams." Hoffman closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat, completely defeated.

"Shit," the tech in the room with them looked between Chin and Kono, his eyes blown wide in amazement. "What the hell did your man say to him to get that confession?"

"Doesn't matter," Kono replied crisply as she glared daggers at Hoffman through the glass.

"When you say 'take care of' what exactly do you mean?" Steve wasn't done yet.

"Kill. I mean I hired them to kill Detective Williams."

"Why?"

"Because without his presence at a trial I had a much higher probability for a minimum sentence, even if Edwards appeared as witness."

"Who was his associate?"

"I don't know."

"Not good enough," Steve growled and Hoffman's eye flew open.

"I swear I don't know! I didn't even know Smith's name until you told me. All contact went through throwaway phones, I only met them in person _once_ to pay for the first job in cash. The second job-"

"The assassination," Steve interrupted coldly and Hoffman nodded dejectedly.

"The assassination was paid to a Swiss account they set up, but you have to understand! They didn't finish the job!" He looked imploringly at Steve, like this would somehow make it better. "They took the first half of the money, but it was returned to me in full over a month ago! I figured they got cold feet and by that time it was too late to-" he cut himself off abruptly, but Chin could guess that the man had smartened up to the point where he realized finishing that sentence would not help him.

"When did you order the hit?"

"The same day everything else went down," he crumpled in his seat and Steve stood slowly, everything about him screaming tightly controlled violence. He stared long and hard at Hoffman, fingers twitching at his side, before turning his back and leaving the room. Chin turned to the shocked tech.

"Copies of that recording need to be sent to Five-O, the investigating detectives, Hoffman's lawyers and the prosecuting attorney. Understood?"

"Yeah, sure, but-" Chin didn't wait for the rest of the response, instead he met Steve in the hallway with Kono and the three of them moved to the car.

"The hit was sent out three months ago," Chin stated and Steve nodded tightly. They were silent until they reached the car and were back on the road, away from prying ears.

"You think it was Smith that took Danny?" Kono asked, her phone out as she began searching for information she could access without being at the office.

"I think they went to kill Danny and somehow caught him in the act. Decided they could make easy money using his skills and set up the snatch and grab." Steve practically snarled, his knuckles white around the steering wheel.

"Those are big assumptions brah," Chin had to point out, but his mind was reeling with the possibilities and his gut was telling him they were finally on the right track.

"Makes sense," Steve swerved around a slow car and pressed down on the gas.

"They used you to force him to show his ability," Kono thought aloud, pointing out what they already knew, "which means they watched him enough to know who he cared about most, and then what? They were killed? Smith was found in the water the morning after Danny was taken, you think it could have been Danny?"

"He would have come back if it was him," Steve blew through a yellow light, the unspoken knowledge that while Danny might not be certain of them knowing his secret he would not leave Grace hung between them. That was a fact as solid as saying a person needed air to breathe. At least Smith hadn't used Grace as the 'example.'

"So maybe they met up with a third party then, and they killed Smith?" Chin turned the idea over a few times and decided it had potential.

"Or Smith's two partners flipped on him and took Danny for themselves," Steve pulled into a parking spot and they were out of the car in one fluid wave, heading back up to the office. "Lets get everything we can on Smith. We've got him, we can find his partners and then we'll go get Danny back." Agreed. Chin took a moment to stop and grab a still warm cup of coffee from the box Kono had bought before taking up his customary place at his computer. Good, this was better. They finally had a place to start.

Tbc.


	11. Instinctive

CHAPTER 10: Instinctive

-H5O-

The thing about being held prisoner, something he had been happily inexperienced with until recently and had therefore never given it much personal thought, was that everything seemed to pass in moments. Some short, some long, most heavily laced with emotions that he'd rather not feel, but moments all the same.

What he had not been expecting were the moments of long, mind-numbing boredom. The fear, the abuse, having the very basic right of choice being ripped away from you, these things he had expected, but honest to god he was ready to climb the walls of his room if he could only get some kind of purchase! Seriously! He slammed his palm against the wall beside his bed and the sound echoed loudly. Smooth walls made of some kind of metal meant that there was nothing to grip, nothing to even dig his nails into. This box they shoved him into, when they didn't need him for their _tests_ or his skills or for some conversations, wasn't really his ideal choice of living accommodation.

First of all the single bed-cot thing that was bolted along the one wall was worse for his back than his pull out couch, which meant he'd probably be in need of a chiropractor for the rest of his life when Steve finally made an appearance and got him the hell off this ship! Second, there were no windows. Apparently Marcel felt that guests that wished to be uninvited were best suited for the rooms without the tiny little porthole windows that he couldn't even get a hand through let alone his whole body. Some light, even a few rays that did nothing more than blaze a circular brightness onto the opposite wall would be appreciated. Nope, not for Danny, he was stuck in darkness or artificial light whenever he was 'put away.' He hadn't quite decided yet if Marcel intended for this to be an emotional or physical torment, but either way it sucked.

Danny figured he would probably stop complaining about the overabundance of sun in Hawai'i after this.

It also seriously messed up his sense of time. They'd taken his watch away before they'd even done their first exam of him and whenever he was allowed to leave the room (voluntarily or not) he was never quite sure if the sun shining was still the same day, or if an entire night had gone by while he'd attempted to rest and control his still unsettled stomach. If he never had to float on top of another wave he would die happy. Pathetic, but happy.

Danny lifted his still stinging palm from the cool wall and resisted the urge to smack his head against it next. He still had a headache from having his forehead smashed into it who knew how many days before and one headache was enough for now.

Seriously though, as much as he was thrilled to not have to be around a single person on this ship, he was going to go crazy if they didn't give him something to do. He was not accustomed to inactivity, his brain or his body needed some kind of stimulation and since his body was getting more than enough from multiple angles it was his brain that needed feeding.

"Can I at least a get a book to read?" he directed his voice to the ever present audio mic above the door, absolutely not sounding like he was almost begging. "Or a Sudoku? I swear I will paint pictures with crayons if you would just give me the damn paper!" Or even just the crayons because he would gladly use the wall as his canvas. He'd wanted to practice his cartoon dolphins for Grace.

He hadn't been expecting a response, so he was slightly delayed in jumping back to his preferred corner in the room when the thunk-click of the locks being turned on the door echoed around him. It swung outward and he immediately recognized Will standing in its frame, his tiny dark eyes staring at him in that constantly vexed way he favoured when he wasn't around Marcel. Danny wasn't surprised that he had his taser out and trained on his chest. He was a trigger happy bastard, Danny had discovered, and ever since Danny had knocked him out cold with that failed escape attempt in Japan he seemed to just be itching for a reason to be less than gentle. Danny also didn't appreciate the way Will always tried to leave bruises every time he had to escort him somewhere on this boat.

"Mr. Marcel has requested your skills," the tall man announced his voice heavy with the European accent that most of the people Danny had heard speak on this ship. They were all fairly similar. Germanish but not quite. It was driving him crazy.

"Are you kidding," it was a rhetorical question which Will apparently understood as he continued to watch Danny like some sort of zoo attraction instead of answering. "He just had me heal that Greek woman yesterday! Is he trying to kill me? Because if this is how he treats all his products I'm surprised he's been successful in business at all."

"He will see you now," Will gestured again and Johann, never far behind Will, deigned to glance around the door to see what was taking so long. He looked more impatient today than was usual for him, the question was whether it was Danny's stubbornness irritating him or something else.

"Well you tell him I'm not interested in seeing him."

Will stepped fully into the room and Johann took up a leaning position on the doorframe, all causal and easy going. Danny knew better than to trust that nonchalance, because the man was faster than his broad shoulders and heavier bulk would advertise. Danny looked between Will, the taser, Johann, and kind of folded over on himself. What could he do? Fight his way past them and their battery operated guns and dive over the side of the ship?

"Fine," Danny capitulated, pushing off from the wall that had been stabilizing him and carefully walked across the lurching ship floors. As expected Will reached out and wrapped his giant paw around Danny's bicep, squeezing tighter than was necessary before propelling Danny forward and directing him down the corridor with Johann close behind. When they passed a long bank of windows, four stories high, he could see clear across to the ship's bow. Giant mustard coloured cranes loomed over the long deck, only slightly obscuring the large metal crates stacked three high beyond them. Danny, his hand firmly wrapped around the solid metal handrail just beneath the window, watched with a sort of far away horror as the entire ship rode up and crested over a particularly massive wave before ebbing back down into the valley left behind. His stomach rolled in a way that he'd managed to control the last few days through sheer will and the drugs Smidt provided. He looked away, only to come to an abrupt stop as Will forced him to still when two men Danny had never seen before, barged through the stairwells door and into the corridor.

Will stepped in front of Danny and sharply twisted him away from the unexpected men, but not before Danny registered their surprised curiosity or their large weapons of the gun variety strapped to their sides.

"Dit gebied beperkt! Terug naar uw dek!" Johann snapped, his tone clearly angry and Danny heard the door to the stairwell slam back open and the heavy stamp of booted feet retreating. Will grumbled darkly under his breath and shifted to start dragging Danny along the corridor once more, bypassing the stairwell that the unexpected men had tromped through. He stumbled as the ship rose over another wave but managed to stay standing even as he thought about Will's actions.

"You afraid they won't work for you anymore if they know you're snatching people off the streets?" He half-sneered half-asked and glanced to the side to see Will's already squinty eyes narrow more in irritation.

"Normally they are more involved, but Marcel wishes for your identity to remain as secluded as possible." It was Johann who answered from behind and Will's iron grip tightened even more ruthlessly around Danny's arm but he didn't refute. "Do not mistake their lack of direct involvement for ignorance: they are aware you are here, just not entirely aware as to why. They will still shoot you if they catch you on the ship without escort," Johann warned.

_No, they wouldn't,_ Danny thought darkly. He was pretty certain Marcel would have put out a blanket order that if any random man was found wandering around they were to be subdued, not killed. At least that was the impression he'd gotten when he'd nearly made it to the ship's bridge (and radio) and been laid out by the tallest red-head he'd ever seen. His suppresser hadn't said a damn word either, just ripped into Danny until Danny stopped resisting and that had been that. Marcel wouldn't risk losing his current prize stallion.

Danny didn't say anything else for the rest of the trip, focusing instead on keeping his balance on the ever tilting deck and ignoring the fact that up close Will stank like cheese. His poor temper grew along their trip though, which wasn't difficult to accomplish as it was always bubbling under the surface, along with his fear. When he was finally escorted into Marcel's favoured meeting/lounge room it was easy to determine that he had had enough.

"Get offa me," Danny shrugged away from Johann immediately and put a few extra feet between himself, his groupies, and their hands with a fierce scowl. They made no move towards him, as he was already where they wanted him. "I understand that your choice of career reflects the fact that you were never nurtured with love and affection as a child but your lack of hugs does not mean you need to manhandle me everywhere you decide I need to go!" His hand sliced through the air to help make his point before bracing on the wall for extra support. "I am perfectly capable of walking in the direction you point out to me. All it would take is a few simple words such as _this way_ or _down the hall_ or, if words are too much for you, a gesture would suffice."

"Calm yourself, Mr. Williams," Marcel requested softly from his cushy wing-backed chair, his close cropped curls shining in the sunlight from the massive floor to ceiling windows. He was playing with a small bronze sculpture, turning it over in his hand a moment longer before looking up, his gaze travelling over Danny in that creepy, possessive way he had. "You can not blame them for acting out in a way that is no doubt instinctive."

"Instinctive?" Danny spluttered at the thought. "There is nothing instinctive about constantly touching a guy whom is your prisoner, whom you do not know, whom does not want to be touched in the first place!"

"Perhaps not normally, and my employees are generally more polite than that," he gave a little look to Johann and Will, but it seemed more indulgent than irritated which just tightened Danny's nerves even more. "But surely you can understand their draw to you? With a touch you can heal all manner of physical ailments, ease pain, chase away the aches. Once a man sees that happen before them it would be a natural response to want to touch in the hopes of being healed themselves. I doubt they are even aware of the increased physical contact."

"Well I sure as hell am, and if it doesn't ease up soon I'm gonna be getting the wrong ideas here and start wondering exactly what kind of ship it is that you're running," he stabbed a finger in the air to make his point. Will's lips twitched and his eyes narrowed at Danny but he said nothing, which was par for the course in the Boss's presence. Said Boss, however, had clearly lost interest in Danny's plight and in response he held up his toy so Danny could inspect it.

"Hotei, the Japanese god of abundance and health," he announced before leaning forward and placing it on the oval mahogany coffee table before him, the round laughing face and rounder belly facing Danny mockingly. "Bronze, from the Heian period. It's worth a small fortune, but of course it is only a reasonable token of gratitude considering that we saved Jiang's life." On top of the four million Marcel had charged for Danny's services of course.

"You sure they didn't just pick it up from the local dollar store?" Danny sneered.

"I suppose I shouldn't expect you to appreciate such history," Marcel put his elbows on the armrests of the wingback and steepled his fingers before him. Clearly today he was in the mood to be condescending and Danny, well he could be honest with himself, he was pretty much always in the mood to be argumentative.

"Oh, you don't think that I can appreciate a piece of art from one of Japan's most historically peaceful periods" sometimes helping Grace with her homework came in useful, "which, in case you weren't aware, was a time that also greatly promoted the spread of Buddhism. You've heard of that right? Maybe you're familiar with its principal of equality? Because from where I am standing I think you missed a few important lectures."

"You are a man of surprises, aren't you? Though I wonder if you also speak this incessantly to your loved ones, or if you simply believe that aggravating me enough will eventually earn your freedom." Danny shut up with a glare. Marcel had not been amused with his first (and only) real attempt to make an escape and as such his patience with Danny's instinctive need to talk had worn thin. He nodded approvingly at Danny's silence now. "Take a seat, Mr. Williams."

"_Detective_ Williams," Danny crustily replied but took the indicated seat in the metal folding chair across from Marcel. He was tired, sore, and frankly didn't see the purpose in stubbornly defying an order that would make him more comfortable. Still, he made sure he did so with great look of loathing.

"One day you will accept that that part of your life is over," Marcel waved off and nodded in approval when the Doctor deposited a plastic cup of water and some pills before Danny.

"I'm not taking that," he instantly remarked, getting ready to jump right back up.

"They are nothing more than vitamin supplements. Dr. Smidt is concerned for your ongoing health and as a preventative measure you will be taking said supplements twice daily."

"Yeah right," Danny eyed the horse pills with distrust and made no move to take them. Marcel let out a little impatient sigh and then Will and Johann had descended on him like a pack of hungry wild dogs, one holding his arms down while another wrapped one fist in Danny's hair, jerking his head back a bit, and the other hand dug into his jaws joint and forced his mouth open. The doctor moved forward to pick up the pills with a bored look and Danny growled.

"Aight, aright," he capitulated and refused to acknowledge the tiny flare of shame every time he gave in. The hands were instantly gone and Danny took a moment to shake out his shoulders and work his jaw before snatching the vitamins from Smidt and throwing them back with a gulp of water. He resisted throwing the glass across the room, placing it politely back on the table only for it to slide right off with the next wave they swept over. It rolled away across the room. His stomach hadn't decided if it was okay with the extra water yet and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Marcel, who had yet to stop watching him, seemed amused by his discomfort.

"The waves should settle this afternoon as we approach the port of Los Angeles. You will be able to rest this evening with no water motions bothering you." Danny didn't respond, but hope flared in his chest. American soil, and an American port, he was practically home! He just needed to be calm and wait for the right opportunity to make a move and he would be out of there. "In the mean time the good Doctor and I have been discussing what we have learned of your healing capabilities and we have come to an interesting question." Marcel paused as Anook moved silently into the room and collected the bronze artifact from its precarious perch on the table before the waves swept it away as well. Marcel didn't seem overly concerned as he kept staring at Danny. Danny noticed the little glare Anook sent his way and held back his bitter smile. _Trust me girl, if I could divert all his attention to you I would,_ he thought darkly. Though he was thrilled somebody around here was as unhappy with his presence as he was.

"You do not seem concerned with our question," Marcel announced after a moment and then looked to Anook, whom Danny had probably been looking at as his mind drifted. "Perhaps you feel you have more interesting things to think about," the irritation in Marcel's tone was unmistakable and drew Danny's attention right back to him. Huh, spoiled little rich tyrant didn't like being ignored by Danny.

"I always have more interesting things to think about," Danny mimed a yawn and Marcel's dark eyes glittered in anger, but he kept his calm like a cloak, his lips twitching at the challenge that wasn't really intended as a challenge on Danny's part.

"Then maybe you have already given thought to the idea that: if you are so capable of healing others with a simple touch, than perhaps you can heal yourself by drawing on the energies of others around you." Danny felt the blood drain from his face as soon as he understood what Marcel was suggesting, a cold, icy ache bloomed in his chest and his hairline instantly broke out in a sweat at the thought. Marcel noticed, and looked pleased with himself.

"I haven't given it much thought, actually, because it isn't possible," Danny was surprised his voice came out as steady as it did considering how he felt. The man sitting across from him narrowed his eyes in thought, clearly disbelieving, as he watched Danny.

"It is a simple concept. While we have not yet been able to determine _how_ it is that your ability works it is obvious how it affects you on a physical level. Even yesterday you were almost too tired to walk to your room unaided. We have decided that there is something wrong here, the transference of energy should not be so one sided, so limited. Why would nature give you such power if it will only weaken you and, in the process, your ability to use this power."

"You read too many comic books," Danny decided.

"There have been studies that show peoples energy levels rising and decreasing while they are surrounded by others, so it stands to reason that if an average individual can give and take of the energy fields around them _you_ should be more than capable of doing the same."

"I can't." Danny didn't leave any room to argue, but of course Marcel didn't really care about what Danny had to say.

"Perhaps you just need some incentive. Anook," Marcel looked over as she smoothly approached to stand by his side. "Would you do me the honour of participating in a little experiment," he phrased it like a question but the order was apparent and, not surprisingly, she agreed with little hesitance. "Have a seat," he gestured her to the cushy chair the Doctor dragged over for her, pacing her right beside Danny. Danny made to get up and move away but two hands pressed heavily into his shoulders, fingers trailing over the bundle of nerves in the hollow between his neck and collarbones and he froze at the warning.

"Look, maybe people can leach energy or whatever off others, but that's not how I work. What you've seen is what you get," he tried to explain.

"Then why do you appear so nervous, Mr. Williams?"

"Because I don't like it when you have ideas that focus on me!" He snapped, eyeing Anook, who looked calm beside him, her sharp eyes watching him, assessing, just like they had that very first day he arrived here. The last thing he was gonna do here was get into the horror of virtually killing his father with this very act.

"Surely you are still feeling tired from yesterday's session," Marcel watched as the doctor set about pushing Danny's button up shirt out of the way and applying the damn sensor things to his chest with his usual clinical touch before stepping back. Danny tested the grip strength on his shoulders and froze when they dug in warningly, his arms going a little tingly for a moment before the pressure eased up. "I would simply like you to borrow a little of Anook's energy, do whatever it is that you can somehow do, and fix yourself."

He said it like it was the easiest thing in the world, like Danny could just take what he needed and there would be no after affects. Danny knew better. He couldn't help the fine tremble that began even as he shook his head and Marcel began to look impatient again. Then the man sighed.

"Perhaps you need more incentive then," he decided and Danny was startled when a heavy strap was looped across his chest and over arms, pinning him to the chair with more than just hands on his shoulders.

"What the hell!" he struggled, peeling off one of the electrodes in the process and trying to jerk away when Smidt stepped close to reattach it. Johann moved beside him and wrapped his hands around Danny's right forearm, pressing it into the cold metal armrest painfully and pinning him there. Danny swore viciously and tried to twist away without much progress. He kicked out and nearly upended the coffee table that separated him from Marcel and his creepy stare but froze the moment Will wrapped one giant hand over Danny's and forced him still enough to get a small pair of garden shears around his index finger.

Danny froze as still as a damn statue as he stared at the green handled tool, its sharp silver blades wrapped snuggly enough around his finger that he could already see little beads of blood forming at the edges. Shit. Shit shit shit shit. That was his trigger finger. They were going to cut off his trigger finger. Oh Christ, he was going to be sick.

"No no no, don't do this! You can't just cut off a man's finger!"

"You needed more incentive to show us that you can in fact heal yourself, this seems an appropriate threat," Marcel watched the proceeding with avid interest where as Anook looked like she wasn't looking forward to getting blood on her nice, pinstripe suit.

"When have you seen me grow a persons limb back? You haven't, that's when! I can _not_ heal myself Marcel, and even if I could I sure as hell won't be able to grow a new finger!" He could tell that his plea/argument wasn't really having the desired effect. "Okay, then think of it this way: I need my hands to heal people. My _whole_ hands. If I'm missing a digit then I might not be able to fix people the same way and then you won't be able to whore me out to your clientele anymore, capise!"

"It certainly won't be that drastic," Marcel rolled out, but the sudden edge of concern was unmistakable. This ship rolled around them, Danny appreciated how well everything was stuck in place as his chair remained where it was. The sharp blades cut a little deeper, he could feel the stinging bite in his flesh and swore he could feel the trickle of warm blood as it began to gather. A moment later the shears disappeared, leaving nothing behind but two thin cuts slowly welling up blood. He breathed a sigh of relief, he could live with a few cuts. The relief disappeared almost instantly as his forearm was forced to rotate palm up and a knife appeared instead.

"Fuck!" he yelled in surprise, unable to help it as the blade bit into the fleshy part of his thumb and dragged downwards, leaving a gaping inch wide maw that instantly filled and began to drip red onto the floor. "Was that really necessary!" He demanded and couldn't believe that he was on the verge of freaking tears as he glared at Marcel. His arm was released and Will stepped back, Johann grabbing a handheld camera from somewhere and focusing it in on Danny's bleeding cut.

Danny took a few deep steadying breaths, unable to stop trembling he was so furious, and used the throbbing pain in his hand to ground himself until he had his emotions back under control. Marcel watched dispassionately.

"I'm going to kill you," he decided and Marcel smiled.

"Anook, if you would please lend Mr. William's your hand so he might borrow a little energy and heal himself," Marcel requested and Danny felt her cool fingers sliding into his left hand. He jerked it as far out of reach as he could and she glared, grabbing firmly at his wrist instead.

"Forget me killing you. Steve is the one you're going to need to watch out for," Danny tried to lean his head back only to remember there was no headrest on this metal contraption.

"Ah yes, the Commander McGarrett you so willingly exposed your secret for," Marcel leaned forward and picked up his drink from its' indented cup holder on the table. "As far as I can tell he and his team are currently focused on new crimes being committed by your fellow Americans. And if he hasn't given up hopes of finding you alive by this point I will gladly point out that discovering your true whereabouts is virtually impossible." Danny remembered the gunshots that had no doubt killed the men who were responsible for introducing Danny to this hell. Their bodies most likely tossed in the pacific to be swallowed by the water and lost forever. "Now heal yourself," the man ordered.

Danny sighed and bowed his head, made to look like he was trying, and sagged in his seat a moment later. His hand was still dripping crimson onto the floor. It wasn't even a big cut, barely more than an inch, but it throbbed in time with his heart and stung worse than that time Steve had gotten him shot.

"I can't," he muttered a minute or so later, exhaling when Anook's cold fingers let him go. He glared up at Marcel but didn't say anything more. He could tell that Marcel wasn't convinced, given the frown on his thin lips, but after a moment a hint of amusement twitched at his lips.

"You are a stubborn man Mr. Williams. I can admire that. Perhaps we will try this experiment again later, when you feel more willing to cooperate."

"Not going to happen," Danny rolled his shoulders as the strap binding him in place was released and he stood without permission. He could sense his guards tense but they made no move to restrain him again. Marcel stood swiftly as well and promptly left the room. Apparently Danny didn't rate a goodbye, and watched impassively as Anook followed close behind, her heels click click clicking on the decking.

When Smidt had finished sewing six stitches into his flesh and taking the time to do a few more medical checks Danny was finally allowed to go back to his room, but this time he snagged a puzzle book and pen off the doctors desk. Will snatched the pen from him with a glare, and then pulled its casing off and handing just the ink stick with attached pen point back to Danny, now less likely to be effective as a weapon.

Danny had considered trying to strangle them with his shoelaces at one point, but apparently Marcel felt that slip on chinos were the dress code, removing even that violent option of resistance.

When they finally left him alone in his windowless room he settled on the bed and opened to a page of anagrams to try and distract himself, so of course they decided to turn out the lights. He sat in darkness and breathed deeply, resisting his urge to start kicking the wall and not stop, before placing his new book on the floor beside the bed and curling up on his side.

He didn't know how the hell his team was going to find him, but they had better hurry the hell up before he went crazy. _Come on Steve, it's time to join the party._


	12. Kahuna Ola

CHAPTER ELEVEN: Kahuna Ola

-H5O-

He should be in pain.

He could feel the weight on his chest, see the blood gushing out of so many bullet holes he wasn't sure there was any intact skin left over his ribs and abdomen. There was so much red in the dirt around him he could be swimming in it and to make that point more solid a sea turtle's head poked up out of the thick liquid, blinking at him once before diving back under with a bubble and plop. He watched the pink hued bubble float for a moment before it burst and turned his attention back to his chest. There were slices of pineapple spread over him now, the holes where the fruit's core should have been outlining the holes in his body.

"Always with the fruit," Danny grumbled with irritation and Steve twisted to stare at him because he hadn't been there a moment ago, Steve would have remembered that. "Fruit does not solve anything, Steven," Danny shook his head at him and began picking the pieces off his chest and feeding them to the baby seal sitting at his side. He wanted to ask Danny where the hell he'd been but couldn't get the words out beyond the pain he knew he should be feeling. The tightness in his chest was beginning to irritate him. Apparently Danny could read his mind though, because he flung the last piece of pineapple away, the seal diving off after it, and shook his head at Steve like he couldn't believe they knew each other. His lips twitched with a smile though.

"Been busy hiding. A man's got to hide sometimes Steven, if it means he gets to stay safe."

'I'll keep you safe' Steve tried to portray with his eyes, feeling a profound relief when Danny stuck his entire hand right through one of Steve's bullet holes and into his chest. Danny would fix him, fix this pain that should be tearing him apart.

"Man's gotta hide," Danny shrugged and narrowed his eyes at Steven. "A man does what he's trained to do. A man is supposed to breathe."

"I'll keep you safe!" Steve promised, wrapping his hands around Danny's wrist, feeling his fingers tickle his heart. "I'll protect you."

"Not if you don't breathe, babe," he pried Steve's hand away from his wrist and pulled a beer from his chest, looking at it oddly before shrugging and throwing it after the seal. Danny looked like he wanted to follow it.

"I swear," Steve tried to reach out but Danny was already wading into the pool to meet the dolphin trainers.

"Right," Danny called over his shoulder already distracted by the octopus he was about to ride away on. "I can't wait for you to hold your breath forever."

Steve woke up sucking in a lungful of air and jackknifing up on the couch so quickly he nearly kept moving to his feet. The only thing that stopped him was the large…excessively large mountain of a man staring down at him with worried, caring eyes that reminded him instantly of the seal Danny had been feeding. Jesus, he did not need to wake up to this. He leaned back into the cushions to give himself some space and narrowed his eyes at the man who remained far too close for comfort.

"Kamekona," he awarded himself a motionless pat on the back for sounding calm and collected, "is there something you needed, or is this watching me sleep thing a new habit?" Kamekona narrowed his eyes for a brief moment before the sharpness of his gaze gave way to the more friendly, slightly slow persona Steve was more familiar with and shook his head.

"You okay, brah? You look like you were trying to get somewhere fierce." He moved back a step, giving Steve a little breathing room and an encouraging smile even as he looked him over with a little perturbed frown. _Of course I'm okay!_ Steve wanted to snap at him, his still distracted mind jumping to the defensive as he was prone to do, but he managed to hold his tongue and sighed instead, flopping his head back on the couch.

"I'm good," he offered instead, to which Kamekona didn't look too convinced but he shrugged and sat on the opposite side of the couch, kicking his legs out in a stretch that took up a good portion of the walking room between them and Steve's desk. Right, Steve was in his office. Considering Kamekona had a way of turning up in various locations Steve didn't expect him, he could be forgiven for forgetting where he was, at least for the moment.

"Sure you are." His concern was reflected in his eyes as the big man shifted, shaking the couch's entire frame, "I must have just imagined you not breathing there for a minute." Steve sighed, feeling more tired than he had after his mission in Ruvuma, Tanzania, where he hadn't slept more than five hours during the entire six days he was deployed. He looked out his offices open door to see Kono pacing back and forth across the main room, glaring at the wall mounted monitor.

"Just a dream," he found his mouth admitting without his permission, "I'll be fine." On a regular day and under normal circumstances he might have been internally freaking out about being so emotionally honest to…well, anyone. He couldn't muster up the energy to care right now: befriending a man who had grown closer to him than his own sibling after only knowing him a few months and then finding out said man was hiding the mother of all secrets kind of put things into perspective. What was a little truth among friends in time of strife, after all?

When he found Danny he was going to have to enlighten him on this profound revelation. With a large stick, if necessary.

"Yeah you will," Kamekona decided firmly, "Once we get your kahuna home," he hummed with a satisfied air of true belief, but Steve barely heard the conviction in his tone, instead tensing up tighter than a bow string at his friends words. Kamekona must have noticed because he gave Steve a curious little look, bordering on wary as he obviously saw something alarming in Steve. Seeing this Steve did his best to relax, unclenched fists that had instinctively clenched and dropping his shoulders a little from his normally alert posture to easy going, even if he was so riled up inside he could feel the heat in his throat. It was just a _word_, a title, obviously Kamekona didn't know what he was saying and Steve was jumping to conclusions here, but he had promised he would protect Danny, even if it meant from friends, and he had no intention of ever dropping that ball again.

"What did I say?" Kamekona asked when Steve apparently failed to relax, twisting his bulk to gaze at Steve in confusion and the sincerity on his face helped calm Steve a bit.

"It's nothing," Steve waved it off and Kamekona's frown grew as he watched Steve intently. This was different, Kamekona wasn't normally this intense, or this sharp, and it made Steve feel even more strained.

"You don't like me calling him kahuna? It's better than haole," he defended, eyes narrowing and Steve glared right back, turning to face the man more directly and wishing they were standing now instead sitting side by side.

"Sure is," Steve shrugged, trying (and knowing he was probably failing) at being non-chalant. "Just an interesting title to give Danny is all," which was true. Kahuna could be interpreted as many things: a sorcerer, a priest, someone who excelled at their profession, but Steve had always associated the term with healers and therein lay the potential problem.

Then a light seemed to click in the big Polynesians eyes and suddenly it was him that was looking riled up and defensive, which threw Steve for another loop because he had no idea what the man was thinking.

"Maybe you'd prefer Kahuna Ola," his big chest heaved as he breathed deeply and Steve tensed even more.

"What makes you think I'd prefer that?" he rebutted and quickly continued when Kamekona looked to respond. "Why would you call Danny Kahuna Ola?" Because what it amounted to was Kamekona declaring that Danny was an 'expert' at health and life. The last thing he was expecting in response was for the large man to suddenly huff a hearty laugh and clap Steve heavily on the shoulder. Steve refrained from breaking his arm, because despite this new dangerous twist he still considered the man more friend than threat. For now. "What's so funny?" he growled and Kamekona looked at him like he was the dim one for once.

"You serious brah?" he asked and sobered a little when Steve just stared at him silently. Outside the door Kono had stopped her pacing and was watching them from a distance. "You have noticed the serious mana hanging around the haole right?" He said haole with an affection Steve didn't expect and he narrowed his eyes more in response, hating being blindsided. "Of course you have," Kamekona answered for him. "You think I wouldn't notice something like that and start putting things together? You think I'd be a useful informant to you if I was so unobservant?" and now he sounded like Steve had hurt his feelings. Great.

"I think you'd better explain to me exactly what you're talking about," Steve ordered, and now he did stand, moving across to lean against his desk, crossing his arms, and glaring down at Kamekona. The guy looked slightly unnerved. Good.

"We in interrogation now?" he asked, and then shook his head in disbelief. "This is what I get for bringing you dinner," he muttered mournfully before refocusing and spreading his arms wide in a gesture of defeat. "Okay, to be fair I didn't notice anything at first, but a while back word started cropping up that people were getting fixed on the Island," he looked to the doorway when Chin and Kono arrived and suddenly seemed hesitant all over.

"You can tell them as well," Steve ordered and Kamekona actually shook his head and his lips pressed together in sudden unease.

"I don't think I should," he decided and Chin looked to Steve.

"What's going on?" he wanted to know.

"Kamekona called Danny a Kahuna Ola," Steve brought his team up to date and Kono raised her eyebrows in surprise. "He was just about to tell me why." Chin thought about this and than met Kamekona's eyes a long moment before Kamekona sighed.

"The only reason I'm telling you this is because I thought you already put it together," he implored to which Chin nodded that he had, which seemed to be enough and the large man relaxed in his seat again before seemingly forgetting where he had been in his tale.

"People getting fixed on the island," Steve nearly snapped with impatience and Kamekona nodded .

"Right. Fixed, like with little things. A headache here, ulcer there, hangnails up and disappearing and the like. Normally nobody would notice, they would probably never even realize it happened,but you know ohana," he shrugged as though that explained everything and, even though Hawai'i had grown so large and populated, it still did. "One elder heard about a healing or something and told another, and then a few more started asking around their families and one or two more little unexplained healings came about, never anything big, and they decided that the gods had finally deemed us fit enough to be sent a new healer. Thing is nobody had any idea who it was and nobody was stepping forward in the community."

"This has happened before?" Steve asked skeptically despite what he knew. This sounded a bit too surreal, but Chin and Kono weren't saying anything, instead listening intently, Chin with a frown. Steve was third generation Hawaiian, but that didn't mean he'd had nearly as much cultural teachings as his friends growing up. He hadn't had the elders, he hadn't been completely accepted as a true islander. In a lot of ways he still wasn't.

"Sure, like two hundred years ago?" Kamekona scratched his head as he thought about it and shrugged when he decided it didn't matter. "My Tu-tu, she mentioned it and I got curious, because I had this problem with these warts that wouldn't leave, you know? And I figured maybe I could get a little of the magic that was being passed around, right?" He blinked like this should be obvious. "Thing is I had nowhere to start looking and then one day they were just gone."

"So your warts disappeared," Steve pointedly did not want to know what kind of warts, "and you decided that it was somehow related to Danny," because that was a little too coincidental. Seriously, warts?

"Well…yeah. Not right away though, because man that would have been too easy, but I couldn't stop wondering about it, you know? So I started making lists and charts, took up an entire wall at home, before I finally made the connection!" He looked so pleased with himself Steve wanted to be happy for him, he just couldn't find it in him. Not with the thoughts running through his head, because if Kamekona had figured it out than they were screwed. Who else knew on the island? His worry must have shown because Kamekona started looking real earnest.

"It wasn't easy Brah, you gotta believe that I was doing this for months and I didn't tell anyone, I swear. Not even Tu-tu. I just realized that the day the warts left was the same day you and the haole came around asking about Sang Min. I didn't make the connection because I was looking for a local, you know? Didn't even think about you two, but once I started it began making sense. Didn't take long to figure out it was probably the Detective, seeing as the rumors began a few months before you showed up and a few months after he moved here."

"That's a pretty big assumption," Steve shook his head. "You didn't do much more than look at Danny that day and you think he's got some mystical healing power?"

"Yeah I know," Kamekona easily agreed. "I didn't believe it at first either, thought I was trying to hard to peg someone. Way I figure it, it was when he came back and demanded I keep his t-shirt that he fixed me up. I don't think he even knew he did it."

"I'll say again: that's a huge reach," Steve rubbed at his eyes, wishing like hell Danny was right beside him to laugh this off, to pretend there wasn't a chance in hell this was true. He really wanted to damage something right then, anything would do.

"Yeah I know, but get this: after you guys teamed up and became all buddy buddy" he leaned forward earnestly, "that's when I really started to believe it. A friends cousins friends sister came in about four months after you started working together as a witness on that endangered animal thing you were turning over. Remember? She had a real bad sprain on her wrist, right?" Steve nodded, he remembered her, mainly because she kept trying to gain Danny's attention by almost sitting in his lap, apparently not caring in the least that he wasn't a local. "Well when she took the brace off that night there wasn't even a bruise left. The Kahuna must have used his magic on her, see?"

"No, I don't-"

"So I started watching him more carefully. You think it's a coincidence that Kono can ride the big waves again? Even the night before he was grabbed, I saw him fix up some guy on the dance floor. Boy was all hunched over trying to look like he was having a good time with his girl and the moment your man laid a hand on him he straightened up like he couldn't believe the pain was gone."

"Kamekona-"

"I know what I saw brah," he looked steadily at Steve. "I know you know it too. No way you wouldn't notice after practically living in each others pockets since you started working together."

"Shit," Steve rubbed at his eyes, took a breath, and pulled out his full Commander persona. Kamekona was straightening on the couch before he even said anything. "This is strictly classified Kamekona, understand? You can't tell _anyone_ about it. Not your mother, not your best friend, not your Tu-tu. Whatever it is you've decided you know about Detective Williams you will not breathe a word of it outside anyone in this room, ever. Am I understood?"

"Yeah," the man looked taken aback, and then offended and he heaved himself up and out of the couch to stand face to face with Steve, brow furrowed. "I wasn't going to tell anyone, the Haole's secret is safe with me. I understand why he's keeping it close to the chest," he defended himself and crossed his arms.

"Really? Because I'm not sure you appreciate the full repercussions if this were to get out," Steve got right into the big mans face, glaring his fiercest and feeling the furious adrenalin start to pump through his veins.

"Steve," Chin's calm voice cut through the anger and he deflated slightly before giving Kamekona one last warning glare and marching out of the room. Chin watched him go before turning back to Kamekona. The man was not looking very happy.

"I might be an informant, but I'm not going to go ruin a man like Danny," he glared at Chin, daring him to say different. "He's a good guy, cares about his kid, I wouldn't do anything to damage that," he said fiercely and Chin nodded in agreement. He understood what it meant to the informant, his friend, that a father be around for their kid. Initially the big guy hadn't cared at all for Danny, just seeing him as another meal ticket to exploit, but the moment he'd seen him with Grace it was like a switch had been flipped. Danny could do no wrong after that. Come to think of it, the attitude change could have also been because of his hypothesizing over Danny's secret.

"Kamekona," Chin started, the severity in his tone getting the mans full attention. "The people who grabbed Danny knew he was Kahuna Ola." The mans eyes widened in surprise but he tamped down on it quickly. "They shot Steve twice to force Danny's hand and then took him while Steve was still recovering. They could be doing anything to him, anything at all. Hell, they could be selling him to some foreign government for millions of dollars to be turned over for experimentation. We just don't know." The mere thought of that possibility, of a government keeping Danny locked up in some lab, or the men who took him forcing him work for them… if Danny refused they might kill him, torture him, who knew what. It kept Chin awake at night and he knew Steve had a much more vivid imagination of things that could be happening to Danny, through knowledge and experience.

"No one should hurt the Kahuna Ola for their gifts," Kamekona said slowly, shock at the revelation giving way to anger. The man was a lot of things on the island, but he had been raised by his Tu-tu and she had instilled a lot of traditional beliefs in him. Abusing what he might see as a spiritual gift to their ohana was not acceptable behavior for anyone as far as he was concerned. Chin figured Danny's secret was safe with this man, so long as he was never physically forced to give up the information.

Kamekona looked beyond the door to where Steve was standing stock still, staring at an image on a computer screen and his eyes softened in understanding. "No one should hurt Danny," he rubbed at the back of his neck and sighed, and than his eyes narrowed and he pushed past Chin and Kono and into the room beyond. Chin was expecting him to address Steve, he just didn't expect what actually came out of his mouth.

"You looking for the Smith brothers?" the big man asked, jerking his head at the image of Bryce Smith on the screen and Steve's attention snapped to him like a snake.

"You know him?" he demanded, posture tightening up even more and Kamekona nodded.

"I know of him. Small time looking to make it big, never stirred any big pots or anything, but I do know that he works exclusively with his brother and they live in the Kaimuki area."

"You got an address?" Steve had a dangerous glimmer in his eyes which Chin hoped Kamekona understood was not directed at him.

"No, but I can find it. Give me an hour," he ordered and started to move out. Steve made to move after him but Chin grabbed his arm, shaking his head at him as the muscles flexed beneath his fingers.

"Let him do his thing. He want's Danny as safe as the rest of us." Steve looked like the last thing he wanted to do was stay at the office, but he backed off with a nod and watched silently as Kamekona disappeared out the door. When the man was gone Steve's shoulders slumped slightly but the intensity of his gaze when he turned back to the screen was still there.

"I don't know how Kamekona knows what he does," Kono shook her head and moved over to the bag of food the man had delivered what felt like ages ago, "but I am glad he's on our side."

"Mostly," Chin agreed, looking at the picture of Bryce. They hadn't been able to find a single thing on him in their last few hours of searching, but it looked like Kamekona would pull through for them again. He turned around to find Kono happily digging into the mostly fried buffet she had spread out on the back table. He noticed she was piling three paper plates high, one of them with the least greasy things she could find for Steve, and she did not back down when he looked like he was going to refuse it.

"Eat, or you won't have the energy to go after Danny when Kamekona tells us what we need to know." Steve took the plate and Chin did the same. Soon. He looked at the picture of Bryce Smith. Soon.

-H5O-

It was half an hour before Steve's cell rang, breaking the heavy silence that had settled.

"McGarrett," he barked, already standing and checking to make sure his gun and the keys to Danny's Camaro were on his person. "Right…you're absolutely sure about this? Okay, thanks," he hung up with a snap and started heading for the door.

"Kamekona says their apartments a waste of time, they cleared out almost a month ago. Paid up all their dues and didn't bother collecting from a few people who owed them small change," he turned sharply on his heel around the corner and practically jumped down the stairs to each landing in his determination to get moving.

"They went to ground," Chin was tight on his heels.

"Makes sense if they were planning this move on Danny for a while. They wouldn't want people to get suspicious of their actions," Kono, despite being last out of the office was the first to reach the gleaming silver car and pull open the back door to slide in.

"Right," Steve nodded tightly and barely checked for traffic before peeling out of the HPD parking lot. "Neither Bryce or his brother have been seen for weeks, which means that Eric Smith was probably the other man who took Danny," a car honked long and loud as they blew past. Steve didn't appear to notice. The last few weeks he'd been driving Danny's car with such care that Chin was positive the man had checked for scratches every night. As they flew through another orange light just turning red he figured the careful days were over. Finally. "Word is nobody knew the two had been hired to take down Danny, but they were looking for bigger game so it wouldn't have been unexpected."

"So if they dropped off the radar and their place is a bust, then were exactly are we headed boss?" Kono leaned forward to be between them, taking note of the streets they were flying down. "Only thing this way is water."

"He got one lead, its sketchy but he thinks it might be legit. Guy named Earl at Pacificscapes."

"As far as I know that company's not fronting anything brah," Chin ignored the looks a bunch of tourists cast their way as they practically careened around a corner and the end of the street came into sight. A large sign with a sunset in the background and a yacht in the foreground boasted the name of their target and Chin had his seatbelt unbuckled before Steve came to a surprisingly gentle stop.

"I guess we'll find out," the smile Steve gave was anything but friendly and Chin didn't miss how his fingers brushed over the handle of his weapon as he exited the car.

The boat dealership was located right on the water, a few docks reaching out had what looked like six boats moored in place, bobbing gently on the water. They bypassed the entire area and stepped into the main building instead. The showroom wasn't overly large, which wasn't surprising given the cost of realestate in this area, but it was bright and clean with windows lining the entire front of the building. Before them a long strip of floor was clear, creating an easy path through the building and lined with boats on both sides. There were various sizes and they were practically sparkling as they sat on their trailers, inviting people to explore them to their hearts content. The three members of Five-O barely cast them a glance as they moved up the isle, their sights set on the semi-circular desk at the end of the large room.

A young woman watched them approach, a polite smile on her face. She didn't get a chance to greet them as Steve snatched the opportunity away.

"We're looking for Earl. Is he in today?" At least Steve was making an attempt at being civil, even if it was obviously forced. The woman appeared somewhat uneasy.

"Yes, he's taking a break out back, but you can't go back there!" She protested as Steve marched around the desk, Kono right behind him, and through the door that separated the show room from the employee area. Chin pulled out his badge and flashed it as he passed her by.

"HPD on official business," he explained, deciding he didn't need to broadcast that they were actually Five-O. "We won't take up too much of his time," he flashed her a reassuring smile and followed his team.

"Earl?" Steve barked at the only man back there, who startled at the unexpected intrusion and smacked his knee on his desk. He grimaced and shook his head.

"No, but I can get him for you if you'd like to wait-" Steve moved on and Chin flashed the badge again, ordering the man to not interfere as they moved to the back door and pushed through it. By the time Chin stepped back out into the baking sunlight Steve had found his target. Chin wondered if the SEALs had had this in mind when they taught the Commander the true meaning of intimidation as Steve had crowded the mans personal space, practically nose to nose.

"Earl?" It wasn't so much a question as an accusation and the clearly startled man let his cigarette fall from his fingers and raised his hands in what he probably meant as a friendly, joking manner.

"Guilty as charged," he pulled out a charming smile and Chin could recognize it for the friendly salesman pitch he had probably honed over years in the business, and took a slight step back. "Can I help you Mr?"

"Commander," Steve didn't hesitate to throw his rank in there and Earl's eyes widened in surprise, "McGarrett. Five-O," he finished and reached into his pocket. He produced his phone instead of his ID and Earl's gaze shifted warily to take in Kono and Chin's presence as they stood to block him in against the wall, his adams-apple bobbed as he swallowed.

"I can honestly say this is a surprise," he tried the smile again but put it away at the look Steve gave him. "Is-is there something I can help you with Commander?" He spread his arms out to wave towards the showroom behind him. "Are you looking for a specific model?"

"I'm looking for this model," Steve thrust the phone into Earl's line of vision, the picture of Bryce clearly displayed. "Perhaps you've seen it recently." Earl matched Steve in height and was heavier in the shoulders, but next to Steve in this mood the guy looked tiny, hunching in on himself slightly as uncertainty quickly flittered across his face, before he shook his head and tried for sincerity.

"No, I can't say that I have sir," he took a step back and found the buildings wall. Steve followed him, moving right into his face. The air around them vibrated with tension and Earl looked to Kono with a pleading gaze. She smiled, all sunshine, and tilted her head a little in assessment.

"You sure about that Earl?" his eyes twitched at the overly friendly tone, quickly realizing that she was not the one to turn to for help. "Cause the Commander here? He really, really wants to know about the man in the picture."

"Why would you think I'd know anything about him? I've never seen him before in my life!"

"You know, I think he's lying Commander," Chin put on his best bland look and grinned internally as Earl clearly began to look very, very uncomfortable. "I think he might even be working with Smith."

"Is that true," Steve snarled, his face betraying all his emotions, the heaviest one being violent rage. "You working with the guy who kidnapped my partner?" You didn't have to know Steve to understand the intent to do harm that he was broadcasting. The look was more rare than his reputation belied, but it was a scary mother when it came out to play.

"No! What? Who's kidnapped? I have nothing to do with it I swear!" Earl had paled slightly and there was no sign of his previous smile. He looked back at the picture on the phone, eyes jerking between it and Steve. It was obvious he knew _something_, and it was clear that he was beginning to believe they knew this.

"How do you know him," Steve asked quietly, annunciating each word and slipping the phone back into his pocket.

"I don't," Early tried again.

"Maybe we should take one of these boats for a test drive boss," Kono suggested brightly. "You think Earl here would like to spend some time out on the water with us?"

"Officer," Chin addressed her warningly. "You know how hard it was to explain what happened last time."

"Just a little ride," she said innocently, and then smiled brightly at Earl. She was one scary woman. Earl tore his gaze away from her and looked back at Steve.

"How do you know him," Steve repeated once more, a note of finality in his tone. Earl held his gaze for an almost impressive four seconds before running a hand through his hair and looking nervously towards the door to the building.

"Okay, I met him a few weeks back, but I swear I have _no idea_ about your partner! All I did was sell him a boat, and that was that. I haven't seen him since."

"When exactly was this?" Steve demanded, backing off slightly now that he was getting the answers he wanted. It relaxed Earl, but only slightly.

"Like, almost a month ago. No more than four weeks tops."

"Why didn't you just tell us this in the first place?" Steve had backed off but hadn't lightened up on his 'I want to maim you' glare.

"It" Earl looked like he was really regretting this now, "it wasn't the most legal of transactions," he finally admitted, and than hastily rushed on. "But I didn't know him before he came to me about buying and I haven't seen or heard a thing from him or his associate since. I just figured they wanted to do a little illegal fishing, you know?"

"What kind of boat?" Chin pulled out his notepad and pen.

"A Trophy, the 2302 Walkaround. Beautiful boat," he ended weakly and his fingers drifted to his pocket before thinking better of it as Steve's gaze sharpened. He eyed his lost cigarette in the dirt mournfully. "Good for the open waters, powerful engine, decent space…" he trailed off.

"Why wasn't it a legit sale?" Kono asked now, faux smile long gone.

"It wasn't registered," which was a roundabout way of saying he hadn't purchased the boat directly from the company that made it, so it was most likely lifted and he bought it hot and real cheap. "I'd only had it three days before they showed up and pretty much snatched it out of my hands. Paid seventy grand cash, no questions, and drove it away as soon as it was fully fueled.

"Did it have a GPS or EPIRB?" Steve was still staring at him like he was gum stuck on his gun grip.

"They didn't want to buy an EPIRB and the GPS was removed before I picked it up."

"What were the numbers on the side?" Steve demanded and Earl shifted on his toes.

"It wasn't registered-" he tried to explain again.

"You would have put fake numbers on the side to avoid suspicion," Steve cut off his bullshit answer. "What, were they?"

"I don't know them off the top of my head, but I have a file in my office safe that has them."

"Lets get them," Chin opened the door and went in first, spotting the other two employees watching nervously from the far end of the small hallway. He nodded at them and followed the other three into what was allegedly Earl's office. He moved to his safe in the corner and immediately retrieved the file. Steve took it, flipped through it and then nodded, handing it off to Kono, and then getting right back into Earl's personal space, this time trapping him up against a potted cactus. Earl yelped and froze in place, wide eyes staring at Steve uncertainly and with a hint of pain.

"I find out you're lying to me, about _anything_, and we're going to have more than words to share next time. You understand?" He asked softly, and Earl nodded quickly.

"I'm not lying, not leaving anything out, I swear!" It was enough for Steve and he was moving out of the office and no doubt back to the car a moment later. Earl looked stunned as Kono followed him. "That's it?" He asked Chin just before he left as well and Chin turned back, making sure he looked as unimpressed as he felt.

"Consider this your lucky day," he warned darkly. "We find out you're dealing any more unregistered vehicles and you won't have the opportunity to drive anything again for a long time. Understood?"

"Absolutely!" Earl nodded with such enthusiasm it nearly gave Chin a headache. "I learned my lesson! Never again, no way in hell, you have my word."

"We'll see what it's worth," Chin followed his teammates back to the car, nodding a polite goodbye to the other employees. Steve already had the Camaro purring when he slid into the passenger seat.

They were silent for a long moment, none easy with the fact that they hadn't taken Earl in for his crimes. Chances were they could probably get information from him that would tie them to who knew how many theft rings, but they had to play their cards carefully now. They couldn't risk taking Earl in, because then they'd have to document his connection to the case and until they knew where Danny was and how they were going to get him back they couldn't risk it. They didn't have a plan of action yet, but their top priority was clear: keep Danny safe. Keeping Danny safe meant keeping his secret safe, which meant playing by a few new rules that were not necessarily by the book.

It still settled heavily between them.

"Think we can track the un-registered registry numbers?" Kono asked from the back seat, frowning down at her phone.

"It's going to be near impossible. We'll need access to satellite feeds from the night Danny was grabbed."

"They store those in an accessible place?" She wanted to know, which was a fair question. Obviously Steve couldn't call up Catherine and ask her to do a broad search of the entire ocean, both because her access was in real time and it was an impossibly large area to cover without general co-ordinates. For her to access the stored imagery she'd have to sign into the system and her search would become officially logged.

"Chin?" Steve spared him a quick glance away from the road.

"We can't officially request them without having to answer questions down the road," which would affect their whole 'solve first figure out what to show to the world later' ideals for Danny. "But there are thousands of satellites in orbit, there must be at least one or two that were recording images as they passed by when Danny was taken."

"Even at night?"

"That is one problem," Chin nodded. "Depending on the satellite we might be able to get an image regardless, but I don't know of any open-source companies that we could get the information from, and I don't have the correct skillset to find them online. At least not in the next few months." Steve was silent for a long moment before he abruptly made a lane change that took them away from headquarters.

"Toast?" Chin asked with approval.

"Toast." Steve agreed. They were silent for a moment.

"The hacker with a perpetual case of munchies right?" Kono softly reminded them from the back. Steve grunted agreement and made another unexpected turn.

"Grocery store and then Toast," he clarified when Chin raised an eyebrow in question. Okay, this was good, they could work with this. They were finally getting somewhere.

_Tbc._

_NOTES:_

**Tu-tu:** Grandmother (aka: Ku-ku)

**EPIRB:** Emergency Positioning Indication Radio Beacon

The Hawaiian word for health is **"**_**ola**_**".** It also means "life". Hawaiians believed you could not have health without life, nor life without health. The ancient Hawaiian Health System was well developed. They had a medical profession, medicines, treatments, a lengthy apprenticeship program for medical specialists (_kahuna_) and training facilities located in special healing _heiau_ (temples) ""

**Kahuna** is a Hawaiian word, defined in the Pukui & Elbert (1986) as a "Priest, sorcerer, magician, wizard, minister, expert in any profession."

- ".org/wiki/Kahuna"

_**Huna**_ is a Hawaiian word for _hidden or tiny thing_, a word popularized by **Max Freedom Long** to refer to the philosophy and skills used by pre-Christian Hawaiians, particularly the mystics and healers, although no accepted Hawaiian sources refer to the word _huna_ as any tradition of esoteric learning.

I hope the above notes help explain the Kahuna Ola title


	13. A Sweet Tooth and Staple Guns

Warning: Violence ahead.

CHAPTER TWELVE: A Sweet Tooth and Staple Guns

"Woah," Adam 'Toast' Charles clutched at the bag that had been unceremoniously dumped on his stomach, barely managing to stay in his hammock in the process. If Steve hadn't already known he was a computer genius that had no qualms helping them when needed he would have definitely been second guessing the wisdom of their visit. The man before them was absolutely baked, his eyes were bloodshot with dark bags beneath and his skin was paler than anyone living in Hawaii should ever be. Danny had more of a tan. Though to be fair that could be from the fact that the guy rarely left the shelter of his home and surrounding palm trees.

Steve watched as Toast slowly (ever so slowly) blinked at the bag and then up at the three of them looming over him and his swinging bed. He blinked again.

"Whatever it was, it wasn't me," he denied vehemently before focusing more clearly on Steve. Recognition dawned a moment later. "Oh, hey maaan. Steve. Steve-o. What's up?" his attention drifted to the bag again and he gingerly peeled the white plastic down to reveal the rainbow mass of Jolly Ranchers wrapped up inside. "Oh," his confusion fused into an intrigued smile. "Need a little cyber know-how on the low-down, eh?" he snapped the bag closed and twisted out of the bright pink material he had been blitzing out in for who knew how long. He landed on his feet with surprising grace. "Nothing super illegal though, right? I've kept my nose clean since those bank machine jobs and I have no plan to head back to the big house."

"You were in Waiawa for three weeks," Steve pointed out with a deep lack of sympathy. Waiawa wasn't exactly known as a hardcore-lockdown prison, it was more like rehab with strictly enforced playtime.

"Yeah, one word: Windows Millenium. I could barely check email let alone-"

"Times wasting Toast," uncrossing his arms and grabbing the computer genius' shoulder, Steve gently guided him past a few others sleeping off the devil's leaf, to Toast's 'office,' which was a plain way of saying the corner of the living area nearly drowned in computers and electronic devices.

"Yeah, sure man, no problem. Is Jersey here? Last thing I need is him thinking I'm breaking my promise-"

"He's not here," Steve cut him off gruffly and Toast frowned up at him as the central monitor, a massive flat screen that barely fit between the two slightly smaller ones sitting on either side of it on his desk, lit up.

"Alright, jeesh. You ever going to let me finish a sentence?" he asked while reaching into the bag of candy and dumping a handful between his keyboard and said monitors. He cracked his knuckles, rolled his head back and forth, following with his shoulders, and then looked up at Steve, and his eyes widened slightly. "Hey, you brought…friends?" Apparently he'd been hitting the grass a little hard and the only thing that was keeping Steve's temper at bay was the fact that Danny had vouched for the guy and Toast had pulled through for them before.

"Chin and Kono," Steve introduced succinctly but apparently Toast had already lost interest and was waiting expectantly for Steve's instructions. "We need you to find a boat for us," he handed over a slip of paper with the fake registration numbers. "No GPS, no EPRIB."

"Right on, you'll be wanting satellite images then," he nodded and swayed a little in his chair to some internal song. "Sure, I can do that. Might take a while, there's a lot of little toasters floating around in the sky and I'll have to figure out who was scheduled to fly where and when before even attempting to access their logged imagery. Is there a specific time…" he trailed off as his phone beeped and he looked down at the text he'd just received.

"All the information we have is there: Approximate time, date, possible location and the maximum perimeter we believe the boat would have travelled within a certain timeframe," Chin explained and Toast was scanning the information with furrowed brows.

"Can't see much at night from that distance, but I like a challenge. Its not going to be easy though, not like there's a public directory announcing satellite orbiting patterns and timelines and then finding one that actually took snapshots of the area you want…I am not going to lie: this will take a while. Like, a lot of whiles." He informed them, his fingers already outstretched on the keyboard and clacking away. Steve watched him a moment before turning to look at his remaining teammates.

"Head back to the office and continue with whatever case the Governor asked us to look over. I'll call you when we have something."

"Looooooong time," Toast muttered behind him, pausing to unwrap one of the hard candies and popping it into his mouth. Steve didn't bother acknowledging the comment.

"We're getting there boss, we'll have him back in no time," Kono said softly, placing a hand briefly on his arm in comfort before heading off to the car. Chin gave him a look.

"Sure you want to wait here, brah? Got a shooting range at home you can relax in."

"I'm good," Steve responded stiffly and Chin said no more, joining his partner in the car. Steve didn't bother watching them drive off, instead finding a chair not occupied by one of Toast's stoned out 'guests.' He sat in it stiffly, fully prepared to wait as long as it took and not a moment longer.

-H5O-

Approximately two hours later Toast lifted his hands from his keyboard, cracked his knuckles, and glanced around him for the first time since he'd sat down.

The crazy military dude that Danny had started hanging around with was still there, sitting tall and square-like in the most uncomfortable chair Toast owned. Guy looked like he was in dire need of a brownie and some serious sleep, but Toast didn't think Danny would appreciate him trying to take care of his friend that way. Still…nah, it was probably a bad idea to offer.

Toast watched him for a minute, waiting to be noticed, but the guy was super intent on staring at some spot on the wall.

"Hey, Army," he called out when it was clear the guy had zoned.

"Navy," he corrected Toast even as he turned his super intense gaze on him.

"Sure," he agreed, because like who cared? "I found your boat." Somehow he'd thought the guy would react more enthusiastically, seeing as he was super hyped about getting this information on the undercurrent in the first place, but all he did was frown. It was not the most flattering look on him; made him seem old.

"You sure? I thought you said it would take a while," he stood from the chair and moved to stand beside him.

"I'm sure," he answered promptly, because stupid question or not there was no mistaking the urgency in the vibes he was setting off and it was seriously messing with Toasts victory. "Wasn't easy either, but I found the boat. Couldn't see it at night, but it was parked before the sun dipped and a HERSHEL picked it up," he pulled up the image on screen and the Commander leaned forward, staring at the boat parked on the old dock. Toast zoomed in for good measure, and then focused even more on the registration numbers. You could only see the top half of the digits but it was enough to probably make a match, so long as they didn't need it in court or anything. "It was gone the next morning," he changed the image to an identical one sans boat, "and tracking it at night is pretty much impossible with the satellites I'm willing to hack into. The other ones…I ain't touching them man, because that's when the guys in black show up in the middle of the night and before you know it you've forgotten what your own mother looked like and no amount of immunity in Hawai'i can get me out of that kind of trouble, you know?" The Commander was practically oozing disappointment as he stared at the image on the screen, and when he straightened up Toast actually felt like he'd kicked the guys puppy and taken away his favourite gun.

"So that's it then?"

"Man you are so not listening to me," Toast shook his head and pulled up another picture. "I couldn't track it at night, but as soon as light hit it was fair game again and we got lucky 'cause…" he scrolled through his image list and clicked it, leaning back in his chair with immense satisfaction, "they were still on the water when this bad boy was taken."

The same little cruiser popped up again, this time much further out from the coast, dangerously far out depending on who you asked, and it should have been more difficult to find but he was just that good. And he'd had a hunch; always follow the hunch.

"Are they-"

"Buddying up to a cargo ship? Why yes, it would appear that they are," he interrupted smugly.

"And you're _sure_ this is the same boat?"

"Again, yes, I'm sure. If you keep asking me that I might doubt your confidence in my abilities." The Commander had the grace to look apologetic, which was enough for Toast. Danny said his new partner lacked social graces that most people were born with, and Toast could respect that. "Here's an interesting thing though," he switched the image again, the angle changed, as was expected because he'd hopped into another satellite for this one, "an hour later and the cargo ships sailing alone again but I can't find the little boat you're after anywhere."

"You mean it disappeared? Completely?"

"I checked the entire area it could have sped off to in that amount of time and there is noooo sign of it. It's gone like the wind. So unless they used one of those deck cranes to haul the little lady out of the water, which I gotta say would probably do more damage than good out there, then-"

"They sank her," the Commander took the words out of his mouth and stood straight again. Toast looked up at him, wondering how he'd never noticed how tall the guy was before. "I need to know which ship that is," he stabbed a finger in the direction of the picture and Toast gave himself a little pat on the back for anticipating this request.

"It's called 'De Dryvende Klomp' which literally translates into The Floating Clog. Belongs to a family company based in the Netherlands. The current owner is a man called Marcel van Hoorn, who took over a few years ago after his dad had a stroke or something." He zoomed in on the flag flying from the giant ships bridge-tower thing, highlighting the red white and blue material just because he could. "Didn't read up on it too much, but I _did_ do some checking into their current whereabouts," he twisted in his chair to look at the Commander head on and nearly crashed into him he had moved so close.

"Where?" He asked softly, his eyes locked onto the flag frozen on screen.

"Los Angeles. They're in Los Angeles."

-H5O-

They were at a stalemate, Danny sitting on the couch, arms crossed stubbornly and displaying the calmest, most unimpressed look he could manage while the Doctor stood by the table on the other side of the room and chirped heatedly into a phone. He looked decidedly unhappy, which was frankly improving Danny's mood by the moment.

Over by the door, in his traditional station, Johann stood guard. He looked as bored as always but he was doing an admirable job of not taking his eyes off Danny. His diligence would be impressive if it didn't mean that Danny had virtually no chance at getting one up on him. Will and Johann had been on high alert since they'd docked in this new port, to the point where Danny never left a room without being cuffed and held at taser point. Danny supposed they were a little more cautious now, seeing as Danny had much better opportunity to find help should he get to the deck of the ship in LA.

His hand hurt, the itch of slow healing irritated his entire palm; he was tired. He'd stared at himself in the mirror for a full ten minutes that morning, trying to come to terms with the weight he'd lost, the thinness of his face, the dullness of his eyes. He'd always thought he had a big head for his body, but his general fitness routine had made him broad enough that it suited his size. He figured he probably looked like a damn bobble-head now, large noggin perched on top of a body that had lost too much weight far too quickly. It was going to take weeks to get back to his previous form as it was, then again he felt so weak right now it might take months.

The non-hypocratic-oath-abiding doctor snapped the phone shut and turned his glare back on Danny.

"I think you just made a poor decision," he informed Danny before moving back to the table that held his little medical doohickeys. Danny just kept watching him blandly, not caring in the slightest what the man thought. "Mr. Marcel is unpleased that he is having to leave his breakfast meeting early to deal with such petty issues," he continued, like he was speaking to some recalcitrant child that had misbehaved and now daddy had to be called by the sitter. It took more effort than it should to keep from unleashing an epic barrage of insults at the weasel, because Danny preferred saving his rants for people actually worth the effort but that didn't mean they weren't sitting on his tongue waiting for a target.

He ran a finger along the stitches in his hand, scraping lightly to try and dispel the itch.

They had brought a child in to him in the early hours this morning, a spoilt little brat that had done nothing but fling the most vile words Danny had ever heard from someone under the age of…well, most ages actually. His dad had stood off to the side of the room tapping away at his phone in disinterest while Danny had been ordered to do his bid.

Childhood diabetes. Danny had basically made it okay for the little turd to start stuffing donuts right back into his face and his dad, who apparently threw away millions on inside trading every day, did nothing more than laugh at the mask and fedora that hid Danny's face before frog marching the kid off the ship and making plans to play a round of golf with Marcel.

Danny wanted to punch something, rage, destroy, stomp all over the place until everything around him was nothing more than rubble at the bottom of the ocean. Instead he rebelled by refusing to allow the doctor to take anymore readings of him.

It was almost comical. The man had come into the windowless lounge Danny was being kept in this morning and, in his usual manner, stuck his little electrode things all over Danny's patchy shaved chest while Johann had stood by the door keeping guard. Once he had finished Danny had, very deliberately, peeled off every sticky round patch and dropped them on the floor.

The doctor hadn't known what to do, sharing a look with Danny's guard, who just shrugged, before sighing and moving in to stick new electrodes back in place.

Danny peeled them all off a second time and then sat down on the one over-stuffed couch in the space. Clearly this was not one of the dressed up, elegant rooms that Marcel used for himself or guests he wanted to impress.

Johann wasn't going to step in on account that he knew that Danny was not in the mood to comply and he'd have to tase Danny to put him down; unless he called in his counterpart. Danny had overheard Marcel's orders to refrain from using the electric stunner unless absolutely necessary on account of Danny's slowly declining health. Danny was very far from being above using that knowledge when it suited him, and right now it suited him.

Hence this stalemate which had the doctor sighing in frustration and tapping his fingers impatiently on the table.

Danny didn't know how long he sat there, not having a watch or any windows to gauge time with, but when he heard the tell-tale click of the door opening he took a breath and prepared himself for the confrontation he had set in motion. Was he being stupid? Most definitely, but it's not like anyone he cared about was around to call him out on being a hypocrite thank you very much. Besides, he was starting to get the impression that the threats against his loved ones were empty, just words to keep him in line. By now Steve would have set up precautions to protect them, or at least warned the Paul and his family that they could also be targeted. At least Danny hoped he had. Nah, he would have definitely made sure Danny's family was safe, Steve was the embodiment of 'leave no stone unturned, no path unfollowed.'

When the guard Danny hadn't seen since his 'job' in Japan appeared, swinging the white metal door inward, and Marcel glided into the room Danny was as ready for this conversation as he could be. Bring it.

"Mr. Williams," Marcel greeted and Danny stood, leaving his arms hanging at the ready by his side, and gave him his best stink eye.

"_Detective_ Williams," he replied in a pleasant tone, teeth grinding at the effort. Marcel stopped a fair distance from him, crossing one arm over his midriff and resting the elbow of his other over his wrist. For a long moment he studied Danny, his lips pressed to the tips of two fingers in thought, before gently pointing the two fingers at Danny in address.

"It is becoming increasingly clear to me that you're still resisting your new position among my staff," his words were softly stern, reprimanding, insulting.

"I'm not happy with the lack of benefits," he snapped.

"I was under the impression that our incentives would be enough to keep the peace of our arrangement, but clearly you are suffering from a bout of denial. This distresses me greatly as I had hoped you would have understood your place by now."

"Yeah, my teachers used to always say the same thing when I was growing up."

"And seeing as you turned into a 'productive' member of society they clearly found a way to convince you to comply."

"Not really," Danny disagreed, because he had been a pretty terrible student. He was always angry, he'd been pushed through a few too many foster families, not all of whom had been the kind hearted individuals who were just trying to give the kids under their care a chance, and he had talked back more than he would ever allow anyone to talk to him now. But he hadn't been stupid, even then, and he'd understood that maintaining a moderately decent grade was something his parents would have wanted of him. It was thoughts of his parents, even though he had been so angry at them for dying, that had pushed him to graduate. After that he'd smartened up and started doing things for his own benefit. His new family in Jersey had helped a lot in that regard. "Eventually they realized that they were better off letting me have my own way, it helped them sleep better at night."

"Yes, well on my ship, in my family, we follow the hierarchy, and there is no tolerance for continued disobedience, so I will give you one more chance to comply with the good doctor's tests or I will be forced to take action to correct your behavior."

"Why? You think that if you study me and test me and god forbid, decide to take me apart you're going to understand what I am? What else could you possibly glean from more tests? Let me answer that for you: _nothing_. You're stuck in repetition now and you're still no closer to figuring out what you're so desperate to know. Here's a thought: there is no explanation, there is no _why_, some things just defy what we know. This is all there is to it! It's not rocket science!"

Marcel pursed his lips, behind him the doctor bristled at essentially being called an idiot, and Johann and the new guard stood by impassively. Robots had more expression than those two.

"Very well," Marcel breathed deeply, barely blinking as he and Danny held a little staring contest that Danny was determined to win. When he finally did win and Marcel turned to address Johann, Danny didn't feel any better for his victory. "Krieg ik een nietpistool**" **he commanded. Johann hesitated for brief second, eyebrow twitching in surprise as he apparently had to think about the order, before turning sharply and stepping from the room. Marcel turned back to Danny and shook his head in quiet disappointment. Danny maintained his quiet glaring.

"Everything has an explanation Mr. Williams, even your unique ability, and I know that deep down you want to understand how you came to be just as much as I do." It was true, Danny had always wanted to understand what it was that made him such an anomaly amongst the millions of people around him, but he'd come to peace with never knowing when Grace had entered his life. Miracles happened, at that point it was good enough for him. Plus risking his secret to get help figuring it out had never been worth the costs he could imagine. It still wasn't.

"I know how I came to be," he shrugged dismissively, "also not rocket science."

"Your willful ignorance on the subject would surprise me had I not become so adept at understanding you these past weeks," Marcel's words were slightly elongated as he enunciated around his accent. "I see the desire to understand just as clearly as I see your fear, and your need to not give into it. I would be lying if I said you did not impress me, but we both know that I do not care to be impressed, I care to have results."

"I'm sorry," Danny shook his head, not taking his eyes off Marcel and therefore not missing his slightly surprised lift of eyebrow, which turned to a satisfied look. That was unacceptable, so Danny elaborated. "But if I talk half as much bullshit as you do back home then I have to admit I'm surprised I have any friends at all. I mean I've been told I talk just to hear the sound of my own voice but you kind of take it to the next level, is all I'm saying." The satisfaction fell off Marcel's face.

"You will learn to comply without complaint, Mr. Williams," he ordered evenly.

"Unlikely," Danny dismissed. The door opened and Johann stepped through, shutting it firmly behind him.

"We will see," Marcel looked to Johann, who stepped forward and handed over what was unmistakably a staple gun, blue grip first. Danny looked at it and tensed, taking a step to put the couch between them as Marcel pretended to test the tools heft before nodding in satisfaction. "We will see," he looked back at Danny, his intention clear. Danny briefly questioned his resistance, for about a millisecond before his anger mingled with the sharp tang of fear and he raised his fists instinctively and glanced towards the door. It wasn't very far, if he could just get past the obstacles.

The guards rounded the edge of the couch on both sides to block him, already too close for him to try vaulting over the piece of furniture without being grabbed. Darting left Danny took a swing at Johann's head in the hopes of stunning the man enough to get by him. He barely made it halfway through the punch before the new guard, who was apparently a quick bastard, grabbed him from behind, yanking his arms back to lock behind him. Danny changed direction, shoving backwards into the closer threat with his full body weight, throwing him off balance but not enough to get him to let go. Danny slammed his head back, his skull connecting solidly with his face and a crunch filled the air. He felt viciously satisfied at the resulting grunt of pain and the loosening of his arms. He used the distraction to drive an elbow backwards.

The satisfaction disappeared completely when Johann slammed a roundhouse to the side of his leg, just above the knee.

"Fuck," he shouted, the entire limb going numb and just crumbling beneath him. He crashed to the floor, new goon number two releasing Danny's arms completely with a little shove and he barely remembered to not try and catch himself on his hands. The moment he was down he rolled to his side and tried to push back to his feet. His leg was having none of that, flopping uselessly and a deep throbbing began where he'd been struck. He glared at the dispassionate Johann who towered over him, and his latest partner who was not looking too impressed, blood dripping from his fractured nose.

As one they bent down and grabbed at his arms; without the solidity of his legs beneath him his resistance was pretty weak. He squirmed anyway, throwing elbows and punches as best he could but they still managed to drag him around the couch and pin his back to the cushions with embarrassing ease. He tried to kick out with his good leg and didn't get very far when Will appeared out of nowhere and practically sat on him, effectively pinning both legs down, hard.

"Get offa me!" He snarled, chest heaving with his deep breaths. His neck was bent at an awkward angle, head pressed into the corner of the couch. Blood dripped onto his shirt from above, strong fingers dug deeply into his shoulders and arms as the two guards leaned what felt like their entire weight onto him.

"Now Mr. Williams, you can not say that you were not warned," Marcel made a show of checking the staple chamber in the large gun before giving a nod. The doctor joined the group of men leaning over him, his cold fingers moving to his shirt and began popping the buttons. Danny thrashed, trying to buck Will off his legs and barely budged him. The effort caused the doctor to tear a button and he looked down at Danny disapprovingly before just ripping the last few out of the way and pushing the black material aside.

"Warned my ass!" Danny snarled and pulled at his pinned arms. "You think this is going to make me _want_ to cooperate with you?" He had a hard time not looking away as Marcel stared down at him, cold eyes bright with anticipation. Creepy asshole.

"Dr. Smidt," Marcel gestured down at Danny and the doctor reappeared from his table, an electrode pinched between thumb and forefinger, and quickly leaned over, finding one of the patches on his chest shaved clean of hair and stuck the thing in place. He looked slightly uncertain as he moved back and Marcel came forward, reaching down and pressing his fingers gently onto the medical sticker. "Maybe next time you don't feel like participating in the good Doctor's tests you will think about this and reconsider," he said softly and then pressed the stapler to the electrode and pulled the trigger.

The sharp click was loud, the pressure heavy for a moment and Danny held his breath as the sharp metal points cut through sticker and flesh alike. The pain was like a punch in the gut, hot and flaring and forcing the air from his lungs in shock. After a moment the blazing burn of large metal staple imbedded so brutally within him dulled to a burning throb that had him writhing to control the pain.

"Jesus!" He snarled and tried to lunge up, the staple aggravating the wound. He couldn't budge, Marcel looking amused and Will twisting uncomfortably over his thighs, putting pressure on his damaged knee in a not so good way. "What the hell is the matter with you people!" Marcel reached forward and slammed another staple into the electrode, this one feeling twice as painful as the first as it rekindled the pain of the tender bruised skin alongside it. Danny tried to pull away again, sinking deeper into the couch, his neck beginning to ache at the angle it was locked in.

"Perhaps you will not be so quick to remove the Doctors equipment next time, hm? It is expensive after all." Smidt stepped forward and diligently stuck another electrode to his flesh and Danny snarled at him, his skin already feeling overly sensitized all over from the tiny wounds. Danny followed the motions with his eyes, ignoring the thin trails of red trickling through his hair and down his ribcage. Marcel slammed a third staple into his chest and Danny was unable to hold back the strangled scream that crawled up his throat, pressing his lips together and his nostrils flared as he fought to control his breathing. Mind over matter, it was just a few staples, he could handle this! He'd had worse cuts filling out Steve's paperwork for crying out loud!

Another staple imbedded itself deeply and he was pretty sure he pulled a muscle as he jerked to get away. Bone! Jesus that felt like it got stuck right in his rib.

Then the next electrode was put in place.

He didn't argue anymore, he couldn't waste the energy asking Marcel to stop when he knew damn well the request would be ignored. He flinched with every bruising stab, unable to control it, and he tried to close his eyes so he wouldn't have to see it coming. It somehow made it worse and he cracked them open again. Tears were leaking down his cheeks, he couldn't help them, and the taste of coppery blood was thick on his tongue from where he'd bitten a chunk in his cheek. The air-conditioning in the room chilled his clammy skin, goosebumps breaking out all over.

"Are you enjoying this yet Mr. Williams?" Marcel was staring at him, eyes slightly wild. He leaned over Danny, waited a beat, and then shoved the gun harshly into his side and stabbed another staple into him. Danny bucked, the move making everything hurt more and he strained in the crushing grips. "Do you understand why it is a good idea to participate?"

"I've come to understand a lot of things," he panted, stilling and feeling the warm trickle of blood itching all over.

Marcel watched him a long moment, eyes drifting over his handy work but ultimately coming back to stare Danny in the eyes. He was completely unruffled, not a spot of discomfort or blood on him, and Danny hated him a little more, which he honestly hadn't thought was possible with the pit of fury he already harbored against him.

Marcel checked his watch, frowned, and finally moved away fully to sit in the seat by the rooms only table. With some sort of silent signal Will finally climbed off his legs, jarring his bad knee, and the two men above him released their grips to back away. He was pretty sure he had dents in his skin from their fingers.

"Do you still wish to remove the Doctors hardware?"

_More than ever_ he thought to himself, but refrained out of fear that Marcel might think nine electrodes weren't enough. Marcel's eyes narrowed, like he could hear Danny's furious thoughts, but he didn't call him on it and Danny focused his attention on slowly pushing himself into a sitting position. Every move pulled at the metal imbedded within him, a sharp stabbing pain that spread across his entire torso. He didn't need to look down to see the punctures that were still bleeding find new paths to trickle down. He was going to need pliers to get them out. He had to swallow thickly a few times, refusing to vomit what little food he'd managed to keep down that morning.

"It looks as though Mr. Williams is feeling slightly more cooperative now Dr. Smidt. You will proceed with your tests," Marcel ordered grandly and sure enough the doctor was eager to comply, cold fingers clamping the wires he sometimes used to five of the electrodes and plugging into his fancy portable computer. Apparently he wasn't concerned about blood or infection at this point. "You can start by healing Mr. Black's nose."

The last of the bleeding had stopped as Smidt worked, but it took a while for the tremors running through Danny's body to fade away. The pain didn't go anywhere and he wiped gently at the tears he couldn't hold back, careful to move as little as possible.

He couldn't keep doing this, it was too much. Too much.

Tbc.


	14. Incursion of the Floating Clog

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Incursion of the Floating Clog

-H5O-

"_McGarrett."_

"Where are you?" Chin demanded into the phone the moment Steve answered, his shoulders sagging in relief at finally getting a hold of the man. He did a decent job of not snapping like he wanted to, but clearly his tone was sharp enough that Steve paused a moment on the other end of the line. Or, more likely, it was just lag time over the phone.

"_L.A."_ Steve answered, like it was the most logical conclusion in the world, which in 'Steve's World' it probably was. It made sense to Chin too, but he had a feeling that they were still on different pages here. He refrained from sighing and put the phone on speaker at Kono's sharp look.

"Los Angeles," Chin parroted back for his rookie's sake and she grinned thinly before looking back to the file she'd been examining.

"_Yeah, didn't Toast send you the information?"_

"Yes, he sent us the information on van Hoorn and his shipping company. He also sent the information that the ship we suspect Danny _could_ be on is in the Port of Los Angeles. What he didn't send was your flight itinerary. We've been trying to call you all night," he let his irritation leak through here, because Steve should know better.

"_What? It wasn't obvious where I was going?"_ Apparently Steve didn't know better. This was the reason Danny had taken to carrying asprin around with him religiously.

"No, it was pretty obvious where you might be going, " he admitted, "a bit of a heads up would have been appreciated though, maybe a time of arrival, maybe giving us a chance to come along as _back-up_," he laid in the sarcasm, Kono watching with tired eyes. There was a longer moment of lag over the phone now as Steve processed Chin's reprimand.

"_Sorry,"_ he finally allowed, sounding more distracted than contrite but Chin would take it for now. He'd just make sure Danny heard about it when he was back safe and let him beat the concept of back–up and the sharing of crucial information into his partner. Kono rolled her eyes at the insincere apology. Chin had a raging headache, but at least they had confirmation that Steve was still alive.

"There's no records of you flying anywhere," Chin closed the last flight itinerary that he'd been searching through for an indication of what time Steve might be landing in LA.

"_I cashed in on a favour," _Steve explained, the distant sound of a seagull echoing over the line,_ "as far as the world knows I'm still in Hawai'i."_ That explained why Chin couldn't find him until he answered his phone. _"I'm at the port now, the ships still here,"_ Chin could tell he was moving as he spoke quietly, keeping his voice low to avoid detection. He was most likely staring right at the cargo vessel and Chin glanced at the image of the ship that he'd put on the monitor the moment he'd received the info package from Toast. Right next to it was the image of the dark haired, sharply blue eyed owner: Marcel van Hoorn.

"Not for long," with a flick of her wrist Kono sent the ports manifest onto the closest wall monitor. "They're scheduled for an early morning departure," she scanned the list quickly, "should be launching in an hour if they're not delayed."

"Want me to delay them?" Chin asked.

"_No," _Steve said softly_, "not yet. I don't want them to suspect they've been made and move Danny before I get a chance to even see if he's still here. If he is here I have no idea how we're going to get him out without having to explain _why_ these people went to such a huge effort to snatch him in the first place."_ There was another pause. _"What do you have on van Hoorn?" _he asked and Chin looked to Kono to get the ball rolling.

"Marcel van Hoorn, the oldest of two sons born to Andre van Hoorn who began his shipping company in 1952. Marcel inherited it eight years ago when his father retired due to early onset alzheimer's but the company has been on the international watch list since the mid seventies due to suspicion of drug trafficking.

"The Netherland's have done three surprise inspections in the last ten years to try and shut them down but they never found _anything_ evenly remotely illegal onboard. A warrant was also served in Japan four years ago under suspicion that van Hoorn was selling weapons to the Yakuza," she frowned at the image of van Hoorn on the screen, "the weapons were supposedly hidden in a container on his ship. They didn't find a thing, there was a lot of embarrassment, people lost their jobs and now authorities are treading extra carefully where they're concerned."

"Officially the guy is clean Steve," Chin cut in, "but unofficially he's got enough money to have several port authorities on his payroll; L.A. being one of his most frequent ports I would say its guaranteed he has people on the inside there. He's also suspected of killing at least two competitors. Their bodies have never shown up and it couldn't be linked to him."

"Oh!" Kono straightened up and snapped her eyes to Chin. "Steve, Danny is definitely on that ship!"

"_What do you know?"_ he demanded, his full attention finally turning to them.

"Marcel has a younger brother, Alfonse. Last year he was diagnosed with leukemia and Marcel moved him onto the Dryvende Klomp five months ago when it became clear that he wouldn't survive. Three weeks ago Alfonse flew from Japan back to his home in Rotterdam, _fully_ recovered from his illness. The officials are stumped. There's no way this is a coincidence."

"_Where's the ship headed next," _Steve asked.

"Back to Japan," Chin looked at the map with the shipping lanes he'd pulled up with the manifest. "It'll be passing by us again, though not as close to the islands as when they took Danny."

"_Okay," _Steve acknowledged and went silent for a minute. _"Okay, I've got to get on the ship before they launch-"_

"No." Chin refused immediately, not liking the sound of this at all. "Not without backup Steve."

"_You're too far away to get here and we can't risk pulling any authorities in on this. I don't trust anyone outside our group and if anyone else learns about Danny they could leak the info to the wrong agency. It might be the government we have to break him out of next and that will not end well for anyone. So I'm getting on this ship now, I'm going to find Danny and we're going to get him off the ship when we're passing home."_

"Steve, what if you get caught? You could put Danny at further risk; they could _kill _you and Danny would be moved and we could lose him permanently. We need to wait and come up with a solid plan," even as Chin pointed out these crucial facts he knew it was a moot point. Steve McGarett was in sight of Danny now: there was pretty much no stopping him. Honestly, Chin didn't really want to try.

"_I'll make it work Chin, just make sure you have an extraction arranged for when we're close enough."_

"I'll figure it out. I'll text you a time to be ready asap," Chin frowned at the map, already beginning to calculate distances and times. "Don't get shot again," he frowned at the phone.

"_I have other plans for the bullets," _Steve replied darkly and disconnected. Chin snapped his own phone shut and looked outside. It was still the middle of the night, which meant that dawn was fast approaching LA.

"You got a plan, cuz?" Kono asked, posture stiff with the sudden anticipation of finally being able to do something real, and the fear that it might not be enough.

"Maybe. Kamekona still hangs with that friend that owns that hangar down by Ke'Ehi Lagoon park?"

"Yeah, they're still tight," she nodded and a slight smile it up her pretty face. "I'll go wake Kamekona up."

Chin nodded in agreement, still staring at the maps. Maybe this could work, but he had a lot of planning to do and not a lot of time to do it. He just hoped Steve didn't get himself and Danny killed before any of them even had a chance to implement it.

-H5O-

The Los Angeles harbour was enormous. Not bothering to say goodbye to his old Navy friend (who was more than happy to start paying off the debt he owed Steve) Steve had quietly departed from the courier plane he'd (illegally) hitched a ride on and gone straight to the massive shipping port.

He had a taxi drop him on Seaside Ave. and moved quickly to cross onto Port property with ease. The port was about 4500 acres, not including the water, and he was thankful he'd had the forethought to have Toast print up a basic map of the area and mark where the ship he wanted would be berthed. The Dryvende Klomp was spending the evening on the East Basin Channel at the Yusen terminal and he headed in that direction almost instinctively. Danny was there, he knew he was, and every step Steve took he was closer to getting his friend home and safe where he belonged. Nothing was going to stop him.

He slipped into the shadows of the towering cargo containers stacked tightly all around. It felt like there were thousands blocking his path and twice he had to quickly switch direction to avoid being seen by the early morning workers and the harbour's patrolling police. When he finally found his target the sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon, pink and blue spreading out to bounce off the wispy clouds and the massive container ship sat silently. He glared at the flag he could just make out waving at the top of the bridge and was planning his next move when Chin called.

He'd stared guiltily at the phone before answering, knowing he should have let his team know what he was doing before he'd even caught the flight from Hawai'i, but his timeframe had been nearly impossible to make and he was well aware that when he got caught up in a plan some things, like calling his team, tended to fall to the wayside. He was pretty sure he would have called Danny though, if it were an option, because nothing was worth the snit that man would get into if Steve didn't keep him in the loop 24/7, no matter how much the Jersey boy bitched about never being left alone.

Chin had not been very impressed with him. Steve was going to have to get him a new fishing spear or something when he got back to apologize because he didn't think a couple beers would cut it this time.

By the time their phone conversation ended and a basic (Chin and Kono would figure it out) plan was made Steve didn't have much time to waste getting onto the ship. The port was already becoming noticeably busier as five A.M. rolled around and it was almost too bright for Steve to feel comfortable approaching the exposed vessel.

His eyes tracked the night guard he'd spotted patrolling the Klomp's upper deck, watching as his head bobbed far above him before he disappeared around the rear end of the ship. Steve knew this was probably the last decent chance he had to successfully board the ship. A quick glance around showed that the way was clear and he sprinted across the open expanse of asphalt to a grouping of yellow bollards wrapped tightly with the stern lines from the ship. By the time he reached them he'd already determined which rope he needed and therefore didn't hesitate to reached down and wrap his hands securely around it. Sliding over the edge of the dock in one fluid move he remained swinging over the dark, dirty water below for a moment and listened for any sound of alarm. When it didn't come he curled his body tightly, pulling his legs up and crossing his ankles over the rope and he began methodically pulling himself along its length, hand over hand over hand.

The braided nylon was rough from use and slightly damp from the early morning dew, making it slippery under his grip. He wished he'd thought to bring gloves to help with traction.

He heard the approach of soft voices when he was only three quarters of the way up the rope, the climb drastically steeper than the near horizontal angle he'd started at. He craned his head towards the ship even as he kept pulling himself up but couldn't see the owners of the voices. He was already moving swiftly, his shoulder and arm muscles not fatigued but definitely feeling the burn of an exercise he hadn't done in a long time. He put more effort into climbing up the line.

The voices became louder in approach just as he reached the hull. Awkwardly he released the rope with one hand and stretched up to grab at the closest bar on the railing. As soon as his grip was secure he reached out with his other hand, grabbed on, dropped his legs and twisted in the air so that he was pressed chest to hull. The cool sheet metal didn't have a chance to chill him through his clothes because he was pulling himself up and over the railing before his legs had even connected with the ships side. He sprinted as silently as possible to the large ropes hawser and ducked behind it just as two men rounded the far edge of the deck.

Feeling the adrenalin pumping through him he silently pulled his knife from his boot sheath and gripped it loosely in preparation. Killing these men now would mean he'd have very little time to find Danny and get off the ship before the alarm was raised, but he had to be prepared for anything.

He waited, crouched as low as he dared, and slinked around to the other side as the two men moved passed his hiding place. They were a few paces beyond when the shorter of the two paused and cocked his head. Steve flexed his grip on the blade , eyes narrowing dangerously and he spotted the muzzle of a weapon as the guard slowly turned on the spot. He ducked back quickly, his body taut in preparation to strike and waited. It took a few steps before it became clear that the man was heading to the decks rail, but Steve didn't relax, sharp ears listening carefully for both of them to change direction and head right at him. There was a moment of soft conversation, a short laugh, and they were moving again. Steve peered back around the hawser and watched them walk away, the flickering ember of a cigarette being tossed away sank below the deck rails. The moment they turned the corner he was moving again. He needed to get to a secure hiding place and fast because he knew that any moment the place would be a lot busier as they began debarking procedures.

He slipped down a narrow passage, up two flights of stairs and found a stack of large wooden crates that looked like a more permanent part of the ship; they wouldn't be moving for a while. There was no room to squeeze behind them so he scaled to the top and rolled to where they pressed against the wall. The over hang from the deck above stuck out far enough that he was well hidden from every angle, and he shifted into a position that he knew he could maintain comfortably for a long time. Chances were it wouldn't be safe for him to move again until nightfall, but at least he was on the ship. Finally.

As the sun rose around him and the ship began its speedy departure out to the open Pacific he pulled out his phone and checked the brief but direct orders from Chin. A lot would be left for Steve to imagine, but he got the gist of the plan his partner was cooking and shot a message back to confirm he understood before he was completely out of cell range. Then he settled in to wait. He had a hunt planned for tonight and he would be nothing but well rested.

-H5O-

Chin stepped from Kamekona's dirt encrusted jeep, too intent on his purpose to even be relieved to be back on the safety of solid ground, and looked around. It was like any other hangar or warehouse district he'd ever been to: lots of pavement, chain link fences with barbed wire drooping unevenly across the top, a mix of older and newer cars parked side by side in a large lot to his left and a couple more inside a small corrugated building that reminded him of the portables that had been at his school as a child. Tufts of brown green grass stuck up in random locations trying to decide if it was even worth surviving in an achingly hot environment surrounded by asphalt and dust.

Chin looked back to the small corrugated building, the massive hangar that most likely housed the company's birds and equipment looming up behind it. He took in the cheerful neon open sign with a green helicopter outlined beside it. A massive sign was bolted into the wall beside the door, boasting "Hoani Flights" in a colourful, professional script. Kamekona bypassed the office completely, walking past the open chain link fence and nodding at a man who looked up suspiciously from his work. The guy nodded back.

"Few years ago some tourists from the mainland took themselves on a tour of the grounds without letting anyone know," he explained the suspicion to Chin, "fancied themselves familiar with the trade. Started fussing with the machines and did some serious damage. Moko tried to sue for the damage but it was ruled that without security to watch the gates the tourists couldn't be responsible for thinking it was okay to wander in here and do whatever they want. Cost him a lot of money."

"You sure he's going to help us?"

"Have a little faith Brah, Moko is 'ohana." Chin didn't say anything, eyeing a chopper across the tarmac that was in the process of lifting from the ground, eager faces pressed up against the glass in excitement for the tour. Kamekona hadn't said much about his cousin Moko, just grinned and said he'd arrange a meet first thing this morning and here they were. Chin was trying not to look too desperate, because if they couldn't get a bird in the air then his plan was shot and he would have no clue how the hell to get Danny and Steve of that ship. He'd already told Steve what to expect and when. If he couldn't follow through he wasn't sure he'd ever see his friends again.

When they finally rounded the far edge of the building, Kamekona huffing from the effort of moving so fast, Chin came face to face with the owner of Haoni Flights. While he hadn't known what to expect, the man before him hadn't fit in his mental image of a chopper pilot. He blamed Top Gun.

Moko looked up as soon as they rounded the corner, the largest aviator glasses Chin had ever seen covering half his face and his expression until the guy broke out into a huge grin, nearly loosing the dark cigar clamped between his teeth.

"Kamekona you nui honu! I hope you're not looking for a tour cause my biggest birds already in the air and I'm not sure even she'll be willing to dance with you!" his teeth flashed obscenely bright, definitely bleached but fairly dim next to the loudest pink and green Hawaiian shirt Chin had ever seen. He was also one of the skinniest guys Chin had ever seen, his arms so thin poking out of his shirt that they could have been twigs.

"No way you're getting me up in one of those bricks you little stint, if I were meant to fly I'd have wings," Kamekona grinned.

"Probably for the best, I don't think I could afford the gas to haul you around," Moko shrugged with good humour, his attention drifting to Chin now that he'd greeted his cuz. His grin dimmed, lips tightening slightly at the edges as it became forced politeness. "Who's your friend?" He asked, eyes still hidden beneath the massive glasses but he pulled the unlit cigar from his lips.

"This is Chin Ho," Kamekona introduced and Moko made no move to shake his hand.

"You here for a tour? We got the best one going across four of the islands," he made a gesture that was probably meant to incorporate all of Hawai'i and Chin noticed the grease marring the back of his knuckles.

"I'm thinking more of a private charter, off the books," Chin said carefully and Moko looked between Chin and his cousin, frowning.

"Chin Ho Kelly," Moko repeated his name, lips pursed, and then he seemed to straighten out, losing the slightly hunched posture, squaring the shoulders and appearing bigger and more confident than his previous stature suggested. Chin realized the mans style wasn't meant to hide a meekness due to his size, it was to mask his strength. "Of Five-O?" he asked sharply and Chin nodded, not having a reason to lie. That seemed to clear up something for the man because he stuck his hand out to shake Chin's and pushed his glasses onto the top of his head, revealing a dark piercing gaze.

"You found the haole yet?" he asked and it was Chin's turn to be cautious now, because cousin of Kamekona's or not he didn't know this guy and what he was trying to arrange with him could get Chin's entire team in deep shit were it discovered by the wrong people.

"You know about Detective William's disappearance?" he asked carefully and looked to Kamekona who shrugged, silently telling him he hadn't mentioned their mainlanders abduction to him.

"Aside from the fact that pretty much everybody but the media does, I've made a point on keeping an eye on the guy."

"Why?" Chin asked sharply and Moko held up his hands in the classic calm down gesture, not bothered in the least by his tone.

"Relax Five-O, nothing sinister. A year back I was arrested for some serious stuff, which I didn't do but try telling that to the detective assigned the case! Guy just wanted to wrap it up and get home and it looked pretty air tight against me. Then along came Williams, deciding that something wasn't right even if it was considered an open and shut case. I asked him to help, he put his reputation on the line but he and his partner figured it out in the end. Saved my ass big time, kept me from prison, kept me from losing my company and birds, and put down the guy who was framing me. So yeah, I kept an eye on him, because he sure didn't make _any_ friends helping me out and I owe him."

"That was Danny that helped you out?" Kamekona shook his head at the apparent revelation. "That haole just keeps getting into everyone's business," the admiration just seemed to grow. If Danny wasn't more careful he might find himself with a fan club headlined by the big man himself.

"So you found him then?" Moko eyed Chin, deciding to take his non-answer as an answer in itself, which was what Chin hoped for. "And you need a bird to get to him?" This time Chin nodded. "Off the books huh?" he raised his grease covered hand and scratched the back of his neck, thinking over what that meant, and Chin ignored the unease in his stomach at having to ask this of someone he didn't know well enough to trust. Then Moko grinned. "I've got just the thing."

"It's gonna be dangerous," Chin warned severely. "The guys who have him run in the weapons trade, they'll be armed and not happy with unexpected company. I can't guarantee your safety."

"The airforce didn't train me to be a coward, Chin Ho. You want a pilot, you've got him, off the books," he flicked his ridiculous aviators back down over his eyes and shoved the cigar back between his lips. "Lets head to my office and we can talk about how we're getting your Haole back with a little more privacy."

Kamekona slapped Chin's shoulder in victory, nearly off balancing him, and grinned with satisfaction.

"Relax Brah, we'll get Steve and the little Kahuna home before you know it," and there was a belief in his words that hit Chin, that finally penetrated the weeks worth of fear for his friend. They would get Danny back. It felt like they'd been saying that forever and Chin finally began to believe.

-H5O-

Moko- a Polynesian name meaning "bent." I thought it appropriate

Hoani –Bird of the gods

Nui honu – big turtle

Little Stint – is a small wader bird

-H5O—

AN: So…Steve is on the ship. Finally ;)


	15. The Unhoped For Reunion

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: The Un-hoped For Reunion

-H5O-

He didn't sleep, his training and instincts not allowing the healing reprieve though he had been awake for over twenty-four hours now. Two hours after they hit the open water the security patrols dropped to practically non-existent and Steve figured they felt secure enough on the open water that only a bare minimum of lookouts would be necessary. The urge to just climb down from his hiding place and take out every single son of a bitch on this boat that stood between him and his partner sat in his limbs like a viper coiled to strike. Waiting had always been the worst part for him, and after waiting for so long already he was nearly at the end of his rope.

The problem was that they were still too far out from Hawai'i for a chopper to make the distance to them, and they didn't have contacts in L.A. that they could trust so Steve was forced to sit on his thumbs and wait; he didn't want to deal with Danny griping at him for acting prematurely and fucking up the plan to rescue him before it even started. Of course their plan was kind of a Hail Mary at this point, so if anything did go wrong Steve would have to improvise and convince Danny that that was exactly how it was supposed to go down. Thinking about it made him grin darkly to himself.

Late afternoon shadows cast beyond his perch slowly turned darker as night approached. There was a heaviness in the normally cooler open water air that suggested rain might be on the forecast and his clavicle ached where it had healed from a break years before. Some of his teammates in the SEALS, the few he worked with long enough after that injury that got a chance to know him, used to joke that he was a human barometer on the ocean; he could predict nearly to the hour when it would start to rain when there wasn't a cloud in the sky. It had been a neat party trick to pull out sometimes, he'd pocketed a decent amount of coin while on ship between missions with the betting pools that he 'did not' know about or partake in, but right now it made him uneasy.

It felt like it could be a heavy storm. A heavy storm could delay, or even obliterate their evacuation plan and Steve did not want Danny on this ship a minute longer than was absolutely necessary.

By the time night fell he was cramped from not moving, had to piss like a racehorse, and was focused enough to know that mercy was not something he was overly keen on showing to anyone while he was here. A few minutes after zero one hundred hours it was dark enough to move.

He ignored the ache in his joints that came with not moving for an obscene length of time and carefully slithered over the wooden roof of the crate, his belt catching briefly on its lip as he twisted around and went over the edge feet first. He lowered himself slowly until his feet dangled only a foot from the ground and dropped the rest of the way. The stun grenades in his pocket clunked together dully, the only sound he made, and he didn't waste time worrying about it because there was nobody in the area to hear. Quickly relieving himself against the wall, not caring a speck about the rudeness, he kept a sharp ear out until he was finished and ready to move.

He edged silently back to the stairwell, sticking his head around the corner and snapping back. There was nobody there, as expected, but he wasn't one to take stupid chances…well, not when he didn't have to at least. The majority of Marcel's crew would probably be tucked away in their bunks on the deck level, but he'd still have a skeleton crew patrolling the decks because Marcel had things to hide. People who had things to hide were always more cautious than the innocent. Steve figured there would be two guys with their boots on the ground and one up high keeping a look out for approaching boats slinking in in the dead of the night. Plus he'd have a few people on the bridge to maintain their voyage.

First step: Figure out how many people were on the ship and confirm where they were most likely to be. Second step: locate Danny. It didn't need to happen in that order. Simple.

He moved swiftly up another set of stairs, the sound of the massive ships propellers churning the water far below him loud in what would be a quiet night. He came out on the deck beneath the helicopter landing pad, ducking lower as he passed by a train of windows that led into a dark room. The night was blacker than black with the cloud cover that had rolled in during the evening but there were still lights illuminating all the gangways and rooms, leaving dark recesses all over the place but making it difficult to move along unnoticed.

He passed a looming lifeboat, hunched over and keeping along the wall, gun ready in hand in case he needed it, hoping it wouldn't be an issue just yet because it would break his cover before he wanted to. He cut down a corridor that led to the centre of the ship, pausing to listen carefully outside a stairwell before moving in. He came out two floors above and in the corridor that led to three places: The bridge, the chart room, and the head. The bridge was the only place that would have anyone at this time of night, and sure enough there were two men diligently making sure the ship kept course.

He itched to take them out of the picture. He moved back to the stairwell and began his descent. He would check each corridor but he'd have to be even more cautious because he figured Danny would be somewhere on the upper four decks, close at hand to Marcel and what he'd probably taken as his main personal space on the ship. There would most likely be a guard. Steve hopped there was a guard, because he didn't want to know what kind of condition Danny would be in if he didn't require one.

Half way down the first set of stairs an alarm began screaming.

Steve froze on the spot, heart hammering in his chest at the blaring klaxon. There was no way they knew he was here! No way! Fuck!

He moved, swiftly throwing himself down the stairs. He needed to get back to a corridor where there would be less of a chance of being spotted and fast. The problem was he couldn't be in a worse place on the ship to hide. Chances were the alarm wasn't for him, but he had no idea what else would set it off in the dead of the night and he had no intention of getting killed before he found his partner.

He was managed to make it down two floors before landings door he was passing was thrown open, its edge just clipping his shoulder. The man who threw it open had been moving so fast he was practically on top of Steve as he barged through the entrance to the stairs. Steve stopped abruptly, twisting around and throwing his whole body into a roundhouse that literally knocked the stunned man right off his feet. He staggered and fell back into the hall he'd been coming from and Steve jumped down the next five stairs, landing on the platform with a jarring thud. He could hear another person already taking the place of the first and he wasted no time moving to the next level in two giant steps, hand on the railing to support him. He looked up just in time to see a gun leveled on him, a clear shot, and reacted instinctively. Using the momentum he had already built he threw himself at the door and all but flew through it just as a bullet whizzed by his head to ricochet off the wall.

He wasn't expecting to be tackled by who must be the biggest mother on the planet! The moment he jumped beyond the door he was sent flying to the floor with a dropped shoulder that drove all the air from his lungs. He hit the deck hard, dazed for a second before realizing that his assailant was still on top of him, pulling a fist back and preparing to attack.

Then he saw that it was Danny.

Even after all his years of combat experience he really hadn't foreseen this scenario when imagining Danny's rescue. He did know that he sure as hell wasn't going to hit back. Barely getting his arm up to block the vicious punch he couldn't suck in a breath to actually warn his Danny to stop. Steve did the only thing he could think of and wrapped a leg firmly around the back of Danny's thighs, thrust his arm behind him for leverage, and flipped them over. It wasn't as smooth as he would like, but it got the job done.

Dragging in the lungful of air he needed, clearing the ache in his chest, he wanted to open his mouth to apologize but didn't have the chance when three armed and seriously pissed off looking men surrounded them. One of them had a handcuff dangling from his wrist and a furiously red face. Steve reacted, roughly shoving Danny against the wall nearest them and crouching over him protectively. He'd lost his gun in the fall (stupid, amateur move) so he pulled one of his knives instead and contemplated the pros and cons between trying to engage them all in close combat or just throwing it at one of their attackers.

The decision was taken out of his hands when Danny, pressed tightly against the wall behind him, wheezed out an incredulous "Steve?" as the men stared at him through hardened, but clearly surprised, eyes. Steve didn't get the chance to answer Danny, not really sure what he would have said anyway, as the closest one fired his weapon.

Bolts of electricity shot through his limbs, the current seizing muscles and taking him down almost as effectively as Danny had. He was pretty sure he managed to elbow Danny somewhere sensitive if his grunt of pain was anything to judge by, but that was a distant concern to his own pain and the echo of Danny yelling at them to "Stop! He's down already! What the hell is the matter with you!"

This wasn't exactly the reunion he'd been aiming for.

-H5O-

The moment they stopped tasering Steve they flipped him roughly onto his stomach and snapped his hands together with flexi-cuffs. He hated flexi-cuffs, they always ended up cutting off his circulation in a bad way but he probably shouldn't complain too much about that as they'd used the ones he'd had stored in his back pocket. It was a cruel irony. They didn't give him a chance to recover, two of them stepping in and hoisting him to his feet. He didn't make too much effort to help them, partly because his limbs were still shaking and not responding fully, partly because he'd never really been good at making things easy for people he didn't like.

Seeing as they'd wrapped Danny's wrists in his flexi-cuffs as well, forcing him to lead the way with threat of more serious harm to Steve, Steve could safely say he didn't like these men. Though that had been a given the moment Danny had been set on their ship. Either way it wasn't an easy walk with their jerky, uncoordinated dragging of him and Danny trying to look over his shoulder, looking like he couldn't believe what he was seeing every few seconds. Steve's vision was still a little wonky from the shock of the taser, but it was clearing rapidly and he tried to take stock of Danny's condition as they moved along. He couldn't tell much from behind, not with the baggy black clothes his friend was wearing, but one thing he could see very easily was that Danny had dropped too many pounds.

He didn't have much time to dwell on this new information as a moment later they were pulled into a ludicrously luxurious room that had more place being on a luxury yacht than a cargo ship. Steve's legs were kicked out from under him before he got more than a glance at the new surroundings. He fell heavily to the ground, no arms to help support his fall and his chest connected hard, driving the air from his lungs for the second time. He ignored the stars that appeared in his vision, rolling slightly to his side to relieve some pressure from his chest and inhale deeply. The stars cleared, his anger did not.

Two very shiny, expensive looking black shoes appeared inches from his nose. He tried to look up, but a boot shoved firmly into his back pinned him to the floor and he barely turned his head to the side in time to avoid smashing his nose.

"What have we here?" the Man above him spoke with a smooth tenor voice, his accent clearly dutch if you knew what you were hearing though it wasn't as strong as it could be, and Steve knew without a doubt that it was Marcel van Hoorn. Steve's current enemy number one. He clenched his teeth, trying to suck in a few more even breaths so he could answer, but didn't get as far as opening his mouth before Danny, true to form, decided to open his own. Later Steve would decide that he didn't always appreciate Danny's verbal impulse control, or occasional lack of it, because the idea of Danny doing it strictly to protect _him_ was not acceptable. Ever.

"As if you don't know," Danny growled, voice slightly raspy and clearly unafraid to express his anger. "As if you didn't shove a glossy eight by ten depicting that chiseled face in front of me the day after we met. As if you didn't sit back and watch as two dipshits punched bullets into him to put on a show for you. Ignorance doesn't suit you Marcel," he attacked, clearly ready to antagonize the crap out of Marcel to give Steve a minute to catch his breath, to try and regain control of his still shaking body.

"Danny," Steve tried to warn him off, which in hindsight wasn't a brilliant idea because he could feel the shift of attention in the room rest on him, namely from the man himself. He also heard him suck in a heavy, preparatory breath.

"No, don't you Danny me you oversized, clearly undereducated, manfish! How did you even get here? Did you swim? Do you have gills tucked behind your ears that I should be made aware of? Because that might be the only thing that makes sense with your whole presence here, which I shouldn't need to point out is in the middle of the Pacific, in the first place; and please note that I am putting special emphasis on the _only_! Seriously, where in the history of rescues does it demonstrate that this is an acceptable mode of operation? Don't answer that!" He was breathing heavily, clearly agitated, but Steve liked to think he knew Danny enough to have gathered the emotions hidden beneath the angry tone; he heard the worry for his safety, the relief that Steve was here with him, the guilt at feeling the relief, and the weariness that overlapped it all. Steve was relieved himself to know that Danny was okay enough to rant in the first place, but the lack of energy behind it was concerning.

"Finish searching him," Marcel ordered dryly, ignoring Danny which Steve figured he'd be hearing about later, assuming they were locked in the same cell together. Assuming they didn't just shoot him and toss him overboard like Bryce and Eric.

"He dropped this when the healer ran into him," one of the guards placed his pistol on a tall, dark wooden table that was secured against the wall behind Steve. He knew this because the sound of his weapon hitting a hard surface was very distinctive.

"Thanks for that, by the way," Danny muttered, no real heat in his words and Marcel's feet shifted out of sight as rough hands began digging into all of Steve's pockets and then getting a little too personal to ensure that he wasn't concealing anything further. His tools joined his weapon one by one on the table.

"I do not understand where you thought you were going?" Marcel announced, irritation clear as he moved to stand in front of Danny, who was sitting where he had been shoved into the couch just within Steve's line of sight. "How many more times are you going to try to leave us? And in the middle of the ocean? What were you going to do, swim back to your past?"

Danny did this thing with his face that conveyed so much disgust it practically radiated from him but he didn't answer Marcel, and though Steve couldn't see Marcel's face he could see the anger in his posture.

"I was having a most peaceful sleep when you decided to make another ill advised attempt at leaving," Marcel stepped closer and ran his long fingers through Danny's wild hair, before clenching his fist in a tight grip and jerking Danny's neck back at an uncomfortable angle.

Steve didn't growl, but it was a near thing and he shifted, testing their hold on him to see if maybe he could shove them off and charge Marcel despite being tied up and pinned to the floor. He got a heavy kick in the side for his trouble, the sharp pain slicing into him and he couldn't help the grunt that escaped at the impact.

"But," Marcel sounded a little more satisfied now, "it would appear that your inconvenient night wanderings led us right to our stowaway. Perhaps I should be thanking you instead, because we may have never known he was visiting if you hadn't bumped into him." Danny's nostrils flared in anger, his breathing heavy and face beginning to turn a little red in the bright light of the room, but his lips remained pressed together and he didn't say anything. Marcel stood above him another long moment, staring, before a small smile broke out and he released Danny's hair, smacking him on the chest with the back of his hand like a buddy trying to get his attention. Danny hissed and curled over himself, hindered by his arms locked behind him, before straightening up and adopting the face he normally wore when in the presence of people he really didn't care for but had to be polite to for political reasons.

Marcel ignored it and turned back to Steve just as the door behind them swung inward and the click-click of narrow heels trailed into the room. Steve was hauled to his knees, the movement pulling on his aching ribs from where Danny had taken him down like a professional linebacker, but his attention was drawn to the woman dressed in a cream coloured pantsuit that stopped beside him.

The only thing that gave away her surprise at his presence was the momentary widening of her cold brown eyes as she looked Steve over. Steve hid his surprise by ignoring her. Despite the lack of glasses and the pencil straight long brown hair that cascaded just below her shoulders he recognized her instantly. He had thought she'd been working with the brothers that grabbed Danny and had assumed she'd probably also met her fate with a watery grave when they couldn't find a trace of her on the islands. One more thing he was wrong about.

"Did you find anything of interest?" Marcel addressed the men surrounding the room, giving a little nod of greeting to the woman as she smoothly took a place next to him, her eyes flittering over and dismissing Danny in a way that had Steve seething. Danny, for his part, was giving Steve a stink eye worse than the first time he'd got him shot, which was just plain unfair but Steve would be the bigger man and ignore it for now.

"Knives, metal string, grenades, some kind of glucose gel supplements, a button, and a cell phone," the tallest of the guards announced in heavily accented English, stepping forward to hand the phone to the woman, who instantly flipped it open and began to explore."

"Looks like somebody was planning to be a menace," Marcel's eyes narrowed as he looked down on Steve and behind them Danny snorted in dark amusement.

"That's his default," Danny grumped, not helping their situation. Marcel wasn't amused.

"I do not like it when people intend to harm my property,"

"I could say the same," Steve spit out without thinking and just like that Marcel seemed amused again, looking back at Danny who was pretending to take no interest in them but was no doubt watching with the same awareness he watched everything: intensely.

"No, you couldn't," Marcel dismissed Steve's words with a dangerous grin, "as nothing currently in my possession belongs to you."

"I'd like to point out that I'm not a commodity," Danny interrupted, "and also sitting right here." Steve clenched his jaw, flaring up the toothache he'd developed from doing that exact thing these last few weeks. He didn't comment further though when the woman snapped his phone shut and focused her attention on him. Steve wanted to punch her in the face and, no, he really didn't have a problem hitting a woman who deserved it.

"It is not his personal cell," because he wasn't an idiot, even if he did get caught unintentionally and way too soon, "and he has only contacted one person on it. The messages are misleading, saying that he had to leave town for a family emergency and doesn't know when he'll be back." She eyed him speculatively.

"When were they sent?" Marcel sounded bored.

"Right after departure yesterday. He must have already been on the ship."

"Hmmm," Marcel pursed his lips and then nodded at one of the guards looming over Steve. He had just enough warning to see the man shifting but not enough to do anything about it as a fist smashed into his face, splitting his lip, nearly dislocating his jaw and it took a bit of straining to not go down to the ground with the force of the blow. The second hit to the jaw nearly finished the job and his head rang, vision blacking for a moment as his body adjusted to the pain before pulling through it. It had been a while since he'd been in this position and he couldn't say the time away made it any better.

"Seriously, that's your solution? Turn him into a punching bag? Classy," Danny snapped but, like Steve always ragged him about, his tone gave away his concern and Steve did not miss the flash of victory in Marcel's eyes before he turned to look at Danny.

"Maybe not classy but it certainly makes me feel better," his tone was cool and the room fell into a long moment of silence as Marcel stared at Danny and Danny stubbornly held the gaze. Steve got the distinct impression that this wasn't the first time they'd locked into a battle of wills like this and unease squeezed his chest. "Take them back to Mr. William's room," Marcel decided with an abrupt break to the silence. "Make sure Detective McGarrett is comfortable."

"Lieutenant Commander McGarrett," Danny snapped, eyes flashing angrily and giving away too much of his true emotions. Steve couldn't get upset by it, watching his friend wrap his anger around himself as a protective barrier. Weeks spent in these conditions were taking their toll. A heavy, hot feeling knotted his stomach as Marcels' dark hawk-like gaze never wavered from Danny. Then he abruptly turned about and left the room, the woman following closely, tossing Steve's phone carelessly onto the table by the door.

It didn't take a lot of prodding to drag Steve back to his feet, his knees angrily protesting at their harsh treatment while on the ground, and Danny struggled to his own feet before attempting to twist from the grip of the shorter, broad shouldered guard.

"I know the way," he snapped and Steve noted how the guards' fingertips turned a lighter shade as his grip tightened. This guy would be the first one Steve ended.

The procession was fairly quiet, the conversations short and in a language Steve only knew a few swear words for, before they were pushed into a windowless room with one cot bolted to the wall and a toilet and sink off to the side with a privacy shield barely high enough to cover a seated person in place. Danny was crowded up against the wall, his guard not bothering to pull a taser on him as Steve was covered by two men himself. They all seemed to understand that with Steve here Danny wasn't going to try anything.

Steve kept his face blank as the guard that had had the handcuff dangling from his wrist earlier moved behind him and roughly snapped it around one of Steve's wrists before knocking Steve to his knees and shoving him harshly back against the bedframe. The other end of the cuff snapped around metal and a knife, one of Steve's he noticed with an irritated burn in his chest, was produced to cut the plastic cuffs from his wrists. He wasn't careful, a sharp slice splitting a patch of skin. Steve didn't move as the two men backed away and Danny was turned by the shoulder and his chest pressed into the wall as his guard sliced the plastic from his own wrists.

They left without a backward glance, the heavy thud of the door and bolting of the lock resounding throughout the small room. Thankfully the lights remained on and Steve finally pulled his hands out from behind him, the chain of the cuffs rattling around the cots leg and couldn't go that far, but at least they were moderately free. He watched as Danny leaned his forehead against the smooth white wall, raising his freed hands to press his palms flush to the surface and breathed deeply. The first few breaths were shaky.

Steve knew that technique, it did not bode well for him, but he ignored it in favour of taking the moment to study Danny more closely. Danny who, already a small man, was too skinny and who had bruises clearly outlined on his wrists, dark fingertip smudges stood out just above his elbows. He had lost the tan he had stubbornly refused to get for the first seven months of his tenure in Hawai'i. Steve wondered at his own psychoses when that, more than the bruises, made the rage bubble up in his chest. He took deep breaths of his own in the tomb silent room, steadying his nerves, and watched as Danny gently knocked his forehead against the wall. Twice. When he finally spoke his voice was deceptively soft.

"Steven," he turned from the wall and leaned back against it, crossing his arms and staring across the small space to where Steve was still sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed. Steve wasn't a big fan of the distance between them.

"Danny," he returned evenly, eyes roaming over his friend once again, seeing the way the black cotton t-shirt that should have hugged his frame hung slightly baggy instead. Noting the yellowing bruises in the last stage of healing on Danny's jaw, the day old stubble not hiding his too sharp features.

"Grenades?" Danny started with and yeah Steve had been expecting something along the lines of 'what are you doing here?' or 'do you enjoy being an idiot? Is this a thing with you?' But seeing as it was Danny he had stopped trying to predict what would come out of his mouth about two months into their partnership: it was more amusing that way and kept him sane.

"_Stun_ grenades," Steve corrected, something clicking back into place within him when Danny's eyes narrowed and he straightened his shoulders the way he would have before this entire FUBAR of a month had happened. It calmed Steve, a pavlovian side effect of being around Danny for so long, and it must have shown on his face because Danny's dull blue eyes flashed to life in a way they had been lacking before. Irritation was the front runner and that calmed Steve just a fraction more.

"_Stun_ grenades he says, because that makes it all better!" Danny waved an arm, barely held back a wince of pain, and continued as though it hadn't happened. "Because clearly, when one is infiltrating a massive cargo ship manned with gun runners, whom I can definitely say enjoy spending time using their products, they need to pack the grenades in a pocket that is attached to pants on the side of their leg. You were hit with a taser, Steven! What if that set them off? Don't for a second think that I can just regrow your leg for you!" Steve opened his mouth to explain why there was no need to be concerned about the electric pulse setting off the grenades, that his leg had been perfectly safe, but Danny didn't give him that chance. "And knives! How many do you think you really need? Did they even get them all? I saw five of them on that table! Where in the world is it safe to conceal that many sharp objects on your body? I could have been stabbed when you oh so gracefully blundered into my path and halted my, up to then successful, escape attempt!

"You know what," he cut a sharp hand through the air, shutting off Steve's attempt to respond again. "Do not even try to explain that freaky character eccentricity, because it is not healthy and I prefer to bask in the knowledge that my partner is a rational, not at all insane, man who doesn't feel the need to overcompensate by draping himself in sharp pointy objects!" He shook his head, pausing to look towards the door in a moment of feigned (Steve was pretty sure it was feigned) disgust. There had been no need for the gesture; Steve had already figured out that they were being visually and most definitely vocally monitored from a recording system above the door.

"Overcompensate like buying a big shiny Camaro you mean?" Steve shifted uncomfortably, wishing he could just get up and go to Danny instead of being stuck on the floor.

"Do not even Steven" Danny snapped. "Do not even bring up my excellent taste in motorized vehicles when you spend more time driving it than I do! A vehicle which I have to say I would rather you were driving _right now_, because I'm sure the nice cushioned seats are a hundred times more comfortable than this floor, am I right?"

"Floor's not so bad," Steve said softly, watching as Danny began pacing in agitation, his upper body held stiffly and his arms not moving as expressively as they should be.

"The floor's not so bad he says," Danny cut him a glare and Steve kept silent this time. Danny tended to repeat what others said when he was uncertain how to respond, it gave him an extra moment to ground himself. "Of course it's bad, Steven! The floor is very, very bad! The floor is bad because it is _here_, are you getting me Steven? Are you understanding what I am saying." Steve understood, but that didn't mean he agreed with it. "Don't get me wrong: I'm glad I haven't been classified as deceased and more than enthused that you found me when it was probably next to impossible to figure out where I am, but there are ways you can be useful to me that don't involve being attached to my cot, weaponless, in a windowless room in the middle of the freaking Pacific! You shouldn't be here Steven! I don't want you here," Danny finished and there was that tone, the one that said too much when he didn't mean to. Danny stopped and leaned against the wall again, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. Steve waited, watching intently.

"I don't want you _here,_ Steven," he opened his eyes and unerringly met Steve's.

"That's too bad, cause it took a long time to get here, I came all this way, figured I'd stay a while."

"That is not a good idea. On a scale of one to ten that is a negative infinity on the good idea front and I would prefer it if you went far away. I won't say no to you taking me with you, a change of scenery would be very appreciated, preferably somewhere on land with my little girl playing safely on a beach and a nice big bag of fresh malasadas. Your being here, chained to the floor, is not getting me any closer to my malasadas Steve so please, _please_ tell me you didn't come here by yourself, without back-up and without telling anyone where you were going."

Steve remained silent. Danny looked at him, looked at him harder, and then shook his head in frustration.

"How many times do I have to keep telling you not to do this, Steve! You need to tell people when you're running into suicidal situations! Wait for back-up, I say. At least _call_ for back up I say, but no, that's too easy! The great Steve McGarrett laughs in the face of reason and now, now you're going to be used as leverage! I only just started deciding that you could take care of yourself out there to the point that I could fight them a little harder, and now you're here." His irritated gaze drifted pointedly to the blood that Steve knew had dribbled all over his chin and Danny pushed away from the wall, his hand reaching, fingers twitching, and then aborting the action just as quickly.

Steve recognized the gesture, the reaching and pulling back; it was such a typical Danny twitch, something he'd seen the man perform countless times. This was the first time he ever understood what it really meant, what Danny was stopping himself from doing all those times before. Steve pretended not to notice the aborted reach and tried to wipe the blood away on his shirt.

"I can always take care of myself," he argued without thinking, a typical response between the two of them, but this time it seemed to hit a nerve and Danny visibly flinched.

"Yeah? Were you taking care of yourself when those two bullets decided to make a home in your chest?" He snapped coldly.

"Wasn't your fault Danny."

"Just like it's not my fault you're here right now? You have a habit of strolling onto hostile cargo ships that I should know about? Don't answer that!" Danny waved at him and Steve didn't respond, his mind briefly flashing on a time long past that involved a ship, police cruiser, a convenient ramp, men with weapons and happy trigger fingers and Danny screaming at him from the passenger seat.

"I could have asked for help," Steve shrugged, ignoring the throbbing in his side from boot shaped bruises. "It was my choice not to."

"You mean it was your choice to go it alone so people wouldn't ask why I'd been taken in the first place, right? To keep my healing thing a secret? This secret is not worth your life, Steve!"

"Maybe not but it is worth yours," Steve snapped back fiercely, glaring. Enough was enough, Danny had had his venting session, he'd played his roll, and Steve was tired of him being on the other side of the damn room. "Would you please stop with the pacing and get your ass over here?"

Danny glared, huffed, rubbed at his tired eyes and then sighed before his shoulders dropped in exhaustion and he finally, _finally_, moved to join Steve. He sat roughly on the floor next to him, extending his bad leg out and Steve stretched his own to slide alongside.

"Where are you hurt?" Steve demanded the moment Danny settled, resisting the urge to just look for himself. Danny hadn't reacted too well the last time he'd done that, though Chin later explained that the poor reaction probably had something to do with Steve trying to remove his partner's shirt in front of half the HPD. Whatever, Steve had been in the Navy so long that the idea of being shy over being checked for injury was just stupid. Try telling Mr. Button-up and Tie Firmly Knotted While I Eat Breakfast that.

"I'm fine," Danny lied, cutting a dark look at Steve. "You can put away that face."

"I don't have a face," Steve denied. He hadn't even twitched his lips.

"Ignoring the ludicrousness of that statement yes you do have a face, and right now it's telling me you want to practice your Florence Nightingale schtick even though you're the one with blood dripping onto his shirt." Danny slouched a little, his shoulder pressing up against Steve's. Steve watched him unabashedly, noticing the heavy bob of his adam's apple at the contact. His eyes drifted down to the exposed arms, the finger shaped bruises, the wrings around his wrists, the large skin-toned bandage spread out over the base of his thumb. The needle marks. The paper thin cut that encircled his index finger. Steve knew what a cut like that hinted at.

Steve was going to tear Marcel apart.

He wanted to ask what happened to his hand, wanted the details so he knew who he should go after harder. Wanted to know what had Danny sore enough that he checked his movements, that had him talking without his hands waving about. He kept silent though, knowing the slight tremor against his shoulder was only a few steps away from becoming a possible breakdown and Danny might not forgive him if he pushed. Not here, not now. Steve might be here now, but it was still hostile territory. They had to hold out a bit longer.

"At least I'm not wearing silk pajama's," he returned after far too long of a pause, plucking briefly at the shiny black sleep pants over Danny's knee. Danny snorted anyway, understanding passing between them.

"You wish you were wearing silk pajama's." Weak. Clearly Danny was too tired now to dig up a good comeback, his eyes beginning to droop before snapping open wide in a facsimile of being awake.

"Get some sleep Danno," Steve bent his head closer to his friend and gave the order softly. "I've got your back."

"Shouldn't be here," he grumped but after a long pause he slowly pushed up enough to flop on the small bed at their back. "Moron." Steve twisted to watch him curl up slightly, his back to the wall, before turning around and settling in for the wait. It felt like he'd been awake for a month already, another night wouldn't matter. There was a long moment of silence, their breathing the only sound in the room. "Nothing good is gonna happen tomorrow," Danny warned softly, his worry all too clear and yeah, Steve had an idea of what to expect, not sure if this fell under the 'been there done that' category but smart enough to know the next two days were going to suck.

"We'll figure it out," he dismissed the concern with a bored tone. Danny didn't respond, but a moment later his arm flopped out, the back of his hand pressing gently to Steve's shoulder. Calming, grounding them both before the soft sound of sleep was the only noise behind him.

It took Steve an embarrassingly long time to realize that his injuries had stopped aching before Danny had even gone to bed.

-H5O-

They'd taken Steve's watch. Danny had stopped really caring about the time of day once he'd come to the understanding that until he got off this ship he had no real control over when he did what anyway, but Steve clearly didn't like not knowing the exact position of the sun whenever his blessed little obsessive compulsive heart desired.

"Control freak," Danny had muttered at him when he saw the guy go to check his wrist for what had to be the tenth time that morning and Steve glared half-heartedly back. Danny didn't have it in him to point out that if Steve had maybe _not_ infiltrated the ship and become Danny's roommate he would still have his watch and then not have to obsess about the time. He understood that while Steve probably had some kind of end game in mind having Danny tackle him in the middle of what had most likely been a reconnaissance run had not been a part of his game plan. It hadn't been a part of Danny's either and his shoulder was still a little achy from coming into hard contact with the brick wall that was his partner.

Even after that impact, and after Steve had patiently let Danny rail at him after they'd been locked back in the room, Danny still had trouble wrapping his head around the fact that Steve was actually here, in his presence. Don't get him wrong; he'd expected (more like desperately hoped) his team to eventually figure out what had happened to him, because solving ridiculous crimes were what they did, but he'd imagined that if they were going to find him it would have been when the ship was still at port. Not over a day out to sea with nothing but water for company.

Then again it was Steve and Danny hadn't been joking with his gill comment earlier, at least not entirely.

So yeah, having Steve sitting across from him, his hands tightly secured together in freshly applied metal cuffs and resting casually on the table, fingers relaxed and laced together, was a bit surreal. And scary. Terrifying actually, because from a distance Marcel could threaten to use Steve as leverage against Danny as much as he wanted, and he had been mostly successful at it when it came to getting Danny to use his abilities to heal people. It hadn't been such a good controlling factor when Danny lost his temper and just had to _get out_.

Now Danny had to determine exactly what he was willing to give up to Marcel in order to keep Steve in one piece.

They'd discussed this of course, before they'd been brought to this elegant dining room with all the bells and whistles and swinging chandeliers and after Steve had gotten a few hours of sleep. Hours he'd protested at first, insisting Danny needed it more and Danny had tried not to wonder at exactly how bad he must look in his friends eyes to earn that determined/worried protest. Especially considering that Steve didn't exactly look like a spry chicken, what with the bags under his eyes and exhaustion clear in his movement.

Danny didn't contemplate that too deeply now, because he knew he would just latch onto the guilt train and not let go and there wasn't time for that just yet. He had to keep his ridiculous, self-sacrificing partner in one piece.

Needless to say Steve's interpretation of how to deal with Marcel using him against Danny was for Danny to not give in. At all. Just let them kick the ever-loving crap out of him, let them beat on him until they got the idea that they couldn't _force _Danny to play ball. Clearly it was anger and not intelligence guiding these directions, because if Marcel did decide to use Steve as incentive to do what he wanted and Danny refused, then Marcel would kill Steve. Maybe not immediately, but he would do it, and that was just…no, it wasn't happening. Try telling Steve that; he still thought causing a rockslide to take out a transport truck carrying an unarmed nuclear weapon was a good idea.

So their discussion, steering clear of the heavier 'are you really okay' subject matter, revolved around Steve ordering Danny to not give in to Marcel's demands, Danny telling Steve he was an idiot in many colourful ways, Steve maturely telling Danny _he_ was the real moron of the two of them and Danny deciding he'd just do whatever he could to keep Steve in one piece when the time came. It didn't help that he wasn't sure if the recording device in the room came with a sensitive audio and half their conversation involved facial interpretation. Fortunately Danny was a self-proclaimed expert at reading Steve. Like it was hard.

Their conversation, which they both knew may have been overheard, was interrupted by all three of last nights entertainment marching through the doors, clearly meaning business as they'd coldly moved them from the cell-like room to the extravagant dining room they were now seated in. Danny had been in here twice before, forced to sit through meals with Marcel and Anook acting like it were a pleasant dinner party as Marcel elaborated on his plans for Danny. Danny preferred the colder atmosphere of the small dining room he was usually taken too, with its cool metal table and hard chairs set in a small space just outside what he had determined was the kitchen.

After what felt like hours of being forced to sit in the heavy, french vintage chairs, to the point where even the cushioned black leather seat began to make his ass numb, Marcel finally made an appearance. He was dressed with his usual code to impress, crisp black pants and white shirt without a wrinkle in it. Danny found himself staring at the tie, an olive green piece with gold patterning and he was torn between wishing he had his own tie and wanting to use Marcels' to strangle him.

"Gentleman," he greeted, looking first at Danny, his gaze as intense and creepy as always, before taking a brief second to acknowledge Steve and casually slip into the seat that Will pulled out for him at the head of the mahogany table. "Sorry to have kept you waiting so long," he lied. Steve kept his face fairly unreadable, for once, but the look in his eyes promised very bad things. Marcel was unconcerned, pouring himself a cup of the weakest tea ever steeped and stirring in a pinch of sugar. "You must be starving after all that work you got up to last night. I certainly know I am," he flipped his cloth napkin open with a dramatic snap of the wrist and laid it over his knee before looking up to await their response. The silence that followed was pointedly cool and after a moment he continued, unconcerned. "It was rude of me to have deprived you of breakfast and lunch and I do hope supper will make it up to you. Ah, Doctor, I am glad you could join us." Danny couldn't help tensing up when he heard the heavy, stomping footsteps he associated with the doctor as he moved through the room.

The man circled around, nodding politely at Marcel and taking a seat across from Danny and Steve, his attention flittering back and forth between them in interest before Marcel called for attention.

"Mr. McGarrett," Danny had to force himself not to clench his fists in anger at the title, "I do not believe you have met Dr. Smidt yet. He was the primary physician for my brother before Alfonse recovered from his illness, and he has remained with us in order to care for Mr. Williams' as well as others among my staff."

"You mean experiment on him," Steve pointed out dryly. "Since you're being so open about things we may as well call it what it is." Danny stared hard at the dark blue napkin sitting on the table before him. There was no cutlery on Steve and Danny's side of the table. He wondered if Marcel was going to make them shovel the food into their mouths using their hands. When he looked back up Marcel was watching him and Steve was watching Marcel. Danny couldn't watch them both at the same time so he settled for Marcel.

"We have not 'experimented' on Mr. Williams, we have merely been testing his capabilities, recording his body's responses to try and help him understand how he can do what he does. Surely you are equally interested in understanding how he works, especially after having experienced it first hand." Marcel's gaze drifted briefly to Steve's chest before smiling a grin that was cruel in its lack of emotion. Danny had to push the images of Steve, lying in the dirt and trying to tell him that it was _okay_ that he was dying while the blood was just running out of him in a freaking stream. It had not been okay, it would never be okay! Christ. Danny couldn't help shifting in his seat, unable to stay still with the angry memory and the tacky feel of blood that had stayed on his hands all night. Beside him Steve seemed utterly undisturbed.

"I don't need to know how he works," he said, his gaze never wavering from Marcel. Marcel took another drink of tea, assessing, before leaning back in his seat and tilting his head.

"I don't believe you." Well Danny was kind of glad for that as it told him that Marcel hadn't figured out how to read Steve yet, because he sure as hell did believe Steve. It wasn't very difficult to read the utter sincerity of the words. Then again on the nights away from work when Danny allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to share his secret he had always felt that it wouldn't really matter with Steve, not beyond the initial shock.

The sound of a cart being pushed into the room was enough to pull Steve's dark gaze from Marcel and assess the new threat. Danny didn't need to look to know that it was the chef, a man that had actively disliked him on sight and made it clear with the way he sniffed in superiority at him every time they were in a room together. Today he curtailed the usual snide glances, maybe because of his boss's presence or perhaps because he was curious about Steve, and went about setting high rimmed bowls of stew before them silently. Steve eyed the spoon beside the bowl like he could use it to kill every person in the room and their dog, which as far as Danny knew he could, but he made no move to reach for it.

"You should try to eat Mr. Williams," Marcel said with a hint of concern mingled with the order, "clearly you can not afford to lose more weight and I may take offence to your acceptance of my hospitality. Yourself as well Mr. McGarrett, lest the meal goes to waste."

Danny eyed the thick stew and pushed it away, well aware of his friends' eyes on him. This far out to sea the waves were having an effect on his stomach again, and if it were just the waves he might have been able to stomach it, but coupled with the burning pain scattered across his chest that flared up angrily with every move and there was no chance of keeping his food down. He was sure the antibiotic shot Smidt had given him the day before coupled with the cream that had been applied to the damaged bits were doing their job but the injuries still hurt.

Steve eyed the food, eyed the retreating chef, and pushed the bowl away as well, resting his hands on the table once again.

"I have to say, Mr. McGarrett, your presence here was greatly unexpected," he began breaking apart his biscuit and dipping it in the stew, "and I will admit that at first I was not overly enthusiastic with your visit but then it occurred to me that Mr. Williams would be much happier with a colleague around. Especially one he holds in such high regard," he broke off to eat. The doctor was eyeing Danny intently again, making him feel twitchy and wanting to check himself for the electrode stickers that the man was obsessed with attaching him. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled slightly.

Steve just watched Marcel steadily.

"Now I am quite enthusiastic about having you as a guest as well," he smiled blandly at Danny. "Mr. Williams was beginning to test my patience with his ill temper. Having you close at hand should certainly help with that."

Steve remained silent.

A pulse of unease shivered through Danny and he rolled his head slightly to try and dispel it. It didn't work. Smidt had stopped eating altogether and was watching him closely now. What the fuck?

"You wanna take a picture? Might last longer," he snapped, getting a quick glance from Steve that he knew was one hundred percent concern despite the stony facade.

"As you can understand we have questions of a personal nature that Mr. Williams is a little more…hesitant to share with us, at least truthfully," Marcel was back to staring at Danny like he was the passcode to Bill Gates' bank account. "Coming from you he might be more inclined to answer them." Clearly Steve was having none of that and Danny was all for that, really he was, but something was wrong. The unease was getting stronger and a familiar itch was beginning to tingle beneath his skin, his fingers twitching without his say-so. He couldn't help frowning, a warning sign blossoming hot in his chest, like he used to get when Grace became very sick as an infant but couldn't tell anyone.

He breathed deeply, trying to act like nothing was wrong, and looked at Steve. Steve was still glaring his hardened 'I am a SEAL and you don't even want to contemplate what I can do to you with a pixi-stick' glare. He looked fine. Danny glanced around the rest of the room. Marcel was finishing his meal but Smidt was still watching him, an excited gleam in his eye now that hadn't been there before.

Marcel pushed away his empty bowl, unconcerned with the lack of response to his attempt at conversation and Danny wasted a moment wondering if answering would shut the man up. He knew from experience it wouldn't. The man dabbed at his mouth with his serviette and leaned forward suddenly, steepling his fingers in that way he had and demanding Danny's attention with a look alone. Danny was still distracted by this feeling of foreboding in his chest.

"You will demonstrate to me how you can heal yourself," he said as though it were fact.

"I can't," Danny returned flatly with a distracted air.

"Perhaps you would first like to discuss how your ability to heal wounds at a cellular level should also be able to heal the very cells within our bodies that affects our very age."

"Doesn't work that way," Danny looked to Steve again, and this time he noticed the pinch of distress at the corner of Steve's eye. His breathing was a little faster now too. "What's wrong?" he asked, hiding the discomfort of being forced to ask in such a public setting. Steve finally broke his angry defiant glare fest and gave Danny a reassuring smile that last all of two seconds. It failed epically at being reassuring.

"I'm good," was the clip response.

"That is just incredible! Did you see Mr. Marcel? He actually sensed that something wrong before the subject was aware of it himself," Dr. Smidt had gone back to glancing between Danny and Steve, practically giddy where he was usually cool and collected.

"I saw," Marcel was completely ignoring Steve, having eyes only for Danny.

"What did you do?" Danny demanded and pushed up from his chair to go to Steve and fix whatever the hell the problem was. The sickness was clear to him now, a ringing gong where as before it had been a light breeze on his ear. He didn't make it far as arms came from nowhere, a familiar heavy strap slapping over his chest and arms and tightening so quickly he was stuck to the chair in moments.

Steve reacted violently to this, or he tried to at least. His face flushed and furious he lunged out of his chair, cuffed hands spilling soup across the high polished wood and he staggered an entire step towards Danny before he seemed to just collapse in on himself, head smacking into the table and a fresh cut instantly gushing crimson as he hit the floor.

"Damn it! Steve! Let me go, I have to help him!" Danny threw his full weight forward to try and break free, the chair rocking up on two legs before heavy hands dug into his shoulders and pinned the four wooden legs securely to the ground.

"All in good time," Marcel picked at a cuticle a moment while Danny watched Steve curl on the floor, his breathing becoming more rapid by the moment. "I believe we were in the middle of a discussion," he pinned Danny with piercing look and Danny refused to flinch, but it was a very near thing.

"He's dying!" there was no question, Danny could feel it in his bones, in his very core. The feelings were always extremely amplified around the ones he loved.

"Cyanide will do that, yes," Marcel looked bored. "I'm actually surprised it took this long to become so advanced, he's been wearing the cuffs for quite a while now."

"Young, exceptionally fit, he would be able to fight the effects for a few minutes longer than the average individual," Smidt made no attempt to check on Steve and a few minutes ago Danny hadn't thought it was possible to hate the man more, but there it was.

Steve's breathing became noticeably labored, his hands pressed tightly to his chest as he struggled to suck more air in. Cyanide. Fuck! Danny had imagined a lot of things happening today; this had not featured in the top twenty. It hadn't featured at all.

"So, Mr. Williams, my question still stands and I am certain that Mr. McGarrett is quite interested in your answer, isn't that right Mr. McGarrett?" he didn't shift his cold eyes from Danny as he mocked Steve on the other side of the table, out of view. "If you are so adept at 'fixing' the ill and injured are you also capable of healing yourself? Keep in mind that I know you well enough by now to know when you are lying."

Danny stared at Steve, so close and so impossible to reach that it felt like it physically hurt to breathe himself. He'd known it was going to come down to having to chose: Steve or the last of his secrets.

It was never really a choice.

Tbc.


	16. Miss Hawai'i

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Miss Hawai'i

-H5O-

"If I answer, you let me fix him," Danny demanded, his eyes firmly fixed on Steve. Even on the ground and gasping the man managed a stubborn shake of his head at Danny, which he rightfully ignored.

"Were you aware that cyanide actually halts the bodies cells ability to use oxygen?" Marcel informed him casually and Danny glowered. He didn't care what it did, he just wanted it to stop. "In low doses it can take weeks, years even, before its victim falls into a coma and passes away. In acute doses, much like the one your friend there has been exposed to, it can be a matter of hours or minutes. His body could start seizing at any moment, his heart could decide to give up mere seconds after," he looked to the doctor who nodded in stoic confirmation. Danny heard what wasn't being said: answer the questions now and we _might_ let you fix your friend. His own breathing was too rapid, panic flooding his veins as Steve began truly struggling for every gasp, no longer able to pay any attention to his surroundings or protect himself.

"Yes," Danny hissed, barely registering the sick-cold feeling that flooded his veins at the admission, his attention on something more important than childhood traumas and long held beliefs of darkness "I can fix myself."

"_How?_" the doctor leaned forth eagerly and Danny snapped.

"How the hell should I know! Do I look like someone who has all the answers? I just do, okay! I just put my hands out and instinct does all the work! It works pretty much the same as when I heal people but in reverse! You're turning me into a broken record here; I don't know what else to tell you because I DON'T KNOW! Christ!" He wanted to tear his hair out, no, he wanted to tear their hair out and stuff it up their self-involved greedy black holes! "I don't know!" Steve began to convulse on the floor, his eyes rolling back and hands pulling so sharply at the cyanide laced cuffs that his skin was slicing open, exposing him to more of the poison.

"Please," Danny gave Marcel what he wanted to hear and forced himself to meet the man's deeply self-satisfied gaze. Marcel lifted an eyebrow expectantly. "_Please_" Danny begged, too desperate to care about his pride and Marcel leaned forward in his chair, the proprietary gleam in his eyes deeply disturbing.

"If you fail to continue to co-operate with me Mr. Williams," his accent rolling over his tongue, "the next time I will slit his wrists and make you watch until every last drop of blood has fled from his veins before I cut his limbs from his still warm body and mail it too your friends. His head will go to your daughter."

"You said you wouldn't hurt her," Danny growled, fury and dread nearly choking off his words.

"I am not a monster Daniel," his eyes were cold and ruthless, the flopping of Steve's still twitching limbs echoing his words. "I will not physically harm her, but I am not above a little emotional terrorism to keep you inline."

"I'll behave," Danny ground out between his teeth and after another too long moment Marcel nodded and the strap that had pinned him so tightly to the chair disappeared. He fell forward, knees smashing hard into the carpeted flooring and he rolled Steve's now slack body onto his back. Shit shit shit!

"Get those cuffs offa him!" he snarled, the familiar gathering of heat and energy pooling down his arms and he pushed it into Steve without a moments hesitation, seeking out the starved cells and flooding his body with the release of locked up oxygen. He ruthlessly targeted his heart, lungs and brain until he felt some kind of internal harmony click back into place and moved on to the rest of the severely damaged organs. He was pushing so hard to fix everything he felt like he was almost beating Steve's body back into working condition. It was possibly the most ruthless healing he'd ever done, but Steve had stopped breathing by the time he got his hands on him and he'd never tried to revive someone this far gone.

When nothing sang inside Danny telling him he needed to keep healing he opened eyes he hadn't realized he'd closed and waited for Steve to wake up. Steve didn't move. He didn't twitch, he didn't blink. His chest didn't rise.

Danny growled under his breath as he realized that while he had healed everything that was wrong with Steve's body his heart had stopped and hearts were freaking stupid muscles that sometimes needed help remembering how to work properly.

"This is such _bullshit_!" He slammed a fist down on Steve's chest in panicked anger before leaning over, tilting Steve's head back and puffing two furious breaths into his mouth before starting heavy chest compressions. It only took nine thrusts for his partners heart to remember how to beat on its own and Steve gasped in a deep, ragged breath as he came back from the dead. He rolled onto his side, curling slightly around Danny's knees as he caught his breath.

"Easy, easy now, you're okay," Danny placed a firm hand on his shoulder, healing the newly damaged skin and thankful he hadn't cracked any ribs with his compressions, before glaring darkly at Marcel over the table.

Marcel was just finishing up one of those almond cookies he tended to stockpile in all his little meeting areas and Danny realized bitterly that their aroma must have masked the cyanide's scent. Marcel rubbed his fingers together to dispel the last crumbs and met Danny's glare with a satisfied one of his own. He pushed up from his chair and looked to the doctor.

"I understand you would like to perform a base medical assessment of Mr. McGarrett Doctor?"

"I would, and perhaps a few more scans of Mr. Williams are in order. I am curious as to whether or not his brain chemistry is altered by the close proximity of a loved one."

"Very well," the dark haired man gave his consent, "When you are finished we should see if Mr. Williams will be up to demonstrating his self-healing skills. As we have not had chance to see these yet I am certain they may go a long way in understanding how he works."

"Not a machine," Danny growled, unknowingly clutching Steve's shoulder harder and barely containing a flinch when Steve's hand suddenly rested atop his own, squeezing in reassurance. A moment later the crazy SEAL pushed to a kneeling position beside him. Danny didn't bother visually checking him over to make sure he was okay, every internal sense he had was telling him that physically Steve was just fine.

"We're all machines Mr. Williams, some of us just happen to be of higher caliber," Marcel cheerfully moved past them but stopped by the door held open by Will and looked back. He coolly studied Steve a moment, unfazed by the heaviness of both their angry stares, and pursed his lips briefly.

"Now, Mr. McGarrett, perhaps the real experiments will begin."

-H5O-

Steve felt refreshed and chock-full of energy. Considering the mind-numbing pain he had been in only moments before, the terror of his lungs seizing up and his body refusing to work, he was practically on cloud nine. He did his best to hide this of course, pulling himself slowly to his knees beside Danny and no further as they waited for Marcel to get over himself and leave the room already. The three guards and the doctor were left looming and Steve quickly assessed that he could probably take them all out without much difficulty, so long as they didn't get him with their coveted tasers. The Doctor was looking so gleeful he was practically bouncing on the spot as he studied Danny and Steve and it didn't take a highly trained lieutenant commander to notice that he safely kept the table between them.

Beside him Danny shifted, his shoulders drooping noticeably and Steve leaned over slightly to nudge him with his own. Danny spared him a tight smile before dropping miserable eyes to the detailed patterning beneath their knees.

The crackle static of a radio burst into the near silent room and Danny jerked in surprise as the tallest of the guards barked into it, his previously blank façade melting briefly into irritation before he looked at the doctor pointedly. Smidt looked even more irritated before sighing and leaving the room with a huff.

"Back to your room," the tallest of the guards, Will, ordered sharply. He had just finished peeling off rubber gloves and tossing them into a bag after the handcuffs that Steve was no longer wearing.

"Thought we were going to the doctor's office," Danny said warily and the guard actually bit off a sharp laugh, shaking his head.

"You were, but now an idiot from the deck crew has managed to break a leg. Maybe you will see him later, maybe not. Up," he gestured with the ever-present taser and Steve was not keen on getting another taste of it so soon. He could take out the guys in the room, sure, but it was still too early and if he jumped the gun here they might not get a second chance to get off the ship. Or at least he wouldn't get off alive and he wouldn't do that to Danny. He began to stand slowly under the watchful eye of the three guards and stopped half way when all Danny did was get one foot flat on the ground before stopping and resting his arms on the raised knee.

Steve dropped back down to his side, gripping an arm to steady the wobbling that wasn't helped by the slow ebb of highs and lows of the ship on rougher waters. He looked Danny over intently, taking in the pallid skin and clenching hands.

"What's up Danno?" he asked softly and Danny snorted, shaking his head ruefully and sending a half-hearted look of irritation his way.

"You think pulling your ass back from the brink of death is easy?" he closed his eyes on a little huff and shook his head. "I just need a minute to catch my breath."

"We're moving now Williams," Will narrowed his beady dark eyes at him and Steve didn't miss the way he shifted forward half a step, his hand twitching like he wanted to reach out. "Even if I must drag you." Danny stiffened instantly and Steve shifted into full protective mode, getting his body between Danny and the guard that loomed over them from the not so long distance away.

"I've got him," he snarled, his one hand never leaving his friend and the other ready to get in the way if the guy got too close. Will clearly didn't like that, his gaze sharpening in displeasure before he pulled his lips in an expectant line and gestured at Steve to get a move on with his electric gun. Steve turned back to Danny and looked him over, trying to figure out the best way to do this.

"If you try to throw me over your shoulder or pick me up like a bride on her wedding night then so help me I will hit you so hard you'll think you were born on the mainland." The threat didn't sound nearly as intimidating as it normally might and Steve suspected that that was because Danny looked like he barely had the energy to swat a fly let alone Steve.

"And undo all your hard work?"

"I'll undo your hard head," he muttered but didn't resist when Steve drew his arm over his shoulders and slowly helped Danny stand before giving the guards a haughty 'Well? Where too?' look that used to drive his superiors up the wall. The walk back to the room/cell was awkward, Danny having little energy to help more than dragging his feet forward and Steve having to hunch over the whole time to accommodate their differences in height.

They didn't chain Steve to the bed this time, closing and bolting the door before Steve had even made it across the small space to Danny's cot and slowly sitting his partner down. He eyed him with worry. The guards hadn't seemed concerned about the state of their boss's prized possession but that didn't alleviate Steve's churning gut.

"Tell me what's wrong," he ordered softly, crouching down in front of Danny and grasping his knees to get his attention. "Tell me why I have the energy to go ten rounds with Ali while you're practically falling over. _I _was the one who was dying, not you."

"Energy transfer," Danny opened tired blue eyes and looked so done in Steve nearly jumped up and went to get a hold of the guards attention. To hell with the plan; he'd take out the guards and they could escape on the lifeboat until Chin and Kono came to find them. It had to be better than staying here another hour. He refrained, turning over his friends answer in his head for a long silent moment, watching Danny force himself to remain awake, before coming to a conclusion.

"Then transfer some of it back to yourself," he shrugged, because it was clearly the obvious answer. Danny's eyes snapped open wide with a look of such raw horror Steve almost apologized for suggesting it on the spot.

"No, no way, that is not happening," he hissed and on a normal day he would have been up and pacing, arms thrown wide as he yelled at Steve for being all kinds of idiot.

"Why not?" He pushed carefully and Danny looked away to stare at his knees where Steve was clasping them. He didn't answer. Steve wasn't used to being the only one to fill the silence. "If you're capable of controlling the breaking and rebuilding of chemical bonds on a cellular level than you have to have an incredible control over not just the energy within you but the energy _around_ you," Danny shifted in clear agitation and Steve frowned. It made sense. It was also what Marcel had been asking about earlier.

"I don't do that Steve, ever, okay? So just leave it alone."

"Don't and can't aren't the same. What you're telling me is that it's basically okay to give so much of your own bioenergy to whomever needs it but borrowing some from others when you clearly need it is not?" Danny glared and looked away, shifty and tired and suddenly Steve thought he understood the problem. He dropped his voice a little lower, hoping the audio recorder couldn't pick up such a quiet conversation. "It's okay Danny, you have my consent. You're not going to take anything from me that I'm not willing to give."

"I said leave it alone!" Danny forcefully pushed Steve's hands away and shifted back on the bed until his back hit the wall, glaring fiercely and shoving his disheveled hair out of his face. Steve watched him for a long moment, noting how even after that outburst Danny's eyelids started drooping in a call for rest.

"Fine," Steve agreed but it didn't stop a snitty glare directed at him, clearly hearing the 'for now' in his capitulation, even if he was clearly passing out where he leaned. Steve glared at him. "Would you just lie down already and sleep? You're a shitty conversationalist when you're tired." After a moment Danny flopped over to lay down and Steve manhandled him into what looked like a slightly more comfortable position before sitting back to guard him in the silent, empty room. He eyed the uncontrolled flopping hair. "You need a haircut," he said softly to lighten the mood.

"You don't touch the hair," he cracked an eye open briefly to cut him an evil eye.

"Really badly. Just buzz it all off, it'll be cooling."

"I can make all the hair fall off your body with a touch. Don't mess with me McGarrett." He closed the eye and threw his arm up to partially hug his head. Steve grinned, turning away to watch the door again and pondered the idle threat. Yes, he could see Danny doing just that.

Steve wasn't a stupid man. When he woke up after being shot, drenched in his own blood with only two barely visible scars he understood what it meant. Well, he didn't _understand_ it, but he'd been around the world enough, he'd heard a lot of stories and myths and he understood that not every story was pulled from thin air and that some things, no matter how unimaginable, actually happened. He'd seen and experienced enough in his life, and now at Danny's hands, to understand that the _how_ didn't always matter.

He also understood that if Danny could give of himself to somehow save life, and if he could use those around him to heal himself (despite his clear despair at the idea that Steve would get to the bottom of one day), then it stood to reason he could also _take_ life just as easily. With a touch.

Marcel was still trapped in his greedy fascination with Danny, stuck in the mindset of money, dominance, and his quest to learn the trick of immortality. Steve saw this just like he knew Danny saw this. Just like he saw that Marcel had not yet given thought to the fact that Danny was not just a man who was only a threat when he used his brains and fists; he hadn't realized Danny could be the most dangerous person on the entire ship.

Steve suspected Danny was too inherently good of a person to ever loose himself that way. He didn't think his skills came with built in detachment and that while Danny might not feel the pain of the person he was helping he could feel _them. _ He suspected that if this was the case then the last thing a man like Danny would ever want to do is feel a person die under his hands. He knew that while Danny didn't understand the how's of his existence he did understand his limits. It was probably one of the only reasons Marcel was still alive.

"Sorry," Danny mumbled after some time, sounding sleepy and still hiding under his arm. Steve watched him intently while he could get away with it. "Touchy subject."

"I get it," Steve forgave, because he believed he could understand Danny's reluctance to help himself with his ability even if he didn't like it. His unhappiness must have been apparent in his voice because Danny snorted while shifting into a more comfortable position on the hard mattress.

"You don't," he countered, which was fair enough on certain levels, "maybe when we're out of here I'll explain it to you," he began to slur the last words and Steve futzed around with the thin blanket Danny was lying on enough to half drape it over him. "Tell you 'bout mum n dad-" he trailed off and his breaths finally evened into sleep. Steve swallowed heavily and then perched on the bed to sit and face the door, guarding his partner.

"I'll be there," when you're ready, he finished the promise silently. It would need to be enough.

-H5O-

Kono stepped into the hangar bay after Moko and closed the door behind her. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dimmer interior lighting as she looked around. She instantly saw the bird Moko was already standing beside, a hand patting her black nose affectionately as he awaited Kono's approval. She gave it with an appreciative smile and he responded with a similar one around his fruity smelling cigar.

"She's beautiful," Kono walked right up to the helicopter, placing the case she was carrying by her feet and eyeing the sleek dark shape, noting the worn paint job and dismissing it in the same breath.

"An _AS 350 AStar_," he introduced with a proud pat and swung open the back door. "Bought her off of some Canadian's last month and I haven't had the chance to paint her up all shiny new yet. She seats a maximum five people and cruises at 135 nautical miles an hour with enough fuel in her to keep us in the air for about three and a half hours before we hit the emergency reserve. Of course the lighter we keep her the further she'll go," he eyed the case beside her and she smiled playfully.

"A girl needs her luggage Moko," she kept just enough iron in her voice to make it clear the case was coming. His grin turned a little sharper but no less friendly.

"That's what my sister says whenever she comes to visit. Chin coming in for this lesson?"

"He'll be here when we take off in a few hours, he had some last minute details to take care of."

"Then it's on you," he turned serious and she nodded. He puckered his lips a moment before nodding to himself and tilted his chin to a large, plastic, red gasoline canister sitting by the skid. "Grab that and haul it over here would you?" She didn't hesitate, eager to learn everything she needed to in this pressed timeframe and grabbed the container. It wasn't light but she wasn't weak and when she placed it with an easy thunk where he indicated he visibly relaxed a little. If that was the difficult part of her test then this shouldn't be a problem.

"There is not going to be anything easy about refueling this bird when we land on that boat," he grabbed at the second large gas can and put it beside the first. "Forecast says it's not going to be too windy but the clouds are rolling in and that always plays with thermal layering and wind conditions, not to mention they're far enough from the island that the waves are going to be moving the ship in a decidedly non-friendly way. Short translation: it could very possibly be a bitch to land but at least the cloud cover'll keep us clear from the overhead camera's." Being hidden from the satellites was the one thing on there side for this mission.

"Hot refueling!" He clapped his hands together, and then grabbed something that looked like a large hand made funnel type thing from the back seat of the aircraft. "Big big no no according to pretty much every safety standard ever written about fueling birds, but since we're doing what will hopefully be the fastest snatch and grab in my history we are going to ignore these well-meaning standards and fill up this puppies gas tank while the engine is still hot and bothered. No worries, people do it all the time and make it out alive. This crash course is so that you don't accidentally kill us all while we're evading these bad guys you're after; who will probably be shooting at us.

"You're also going to need to look out for some serious downwash from the rotors. This is a lot to teach you in a few hours but you need to know it so if you don't understand something you ask. Got it?" The guys was intense when he got down to business; a complete flip from his usual lackadaisical persona and suddenly she felt a hell of a lot better about what could be one of the stupidest things she had ever done in her life. If this wasn't so damn important she would be enjoying the shit out of it.

"I copy brah, loud and clear. Show me what I need to do to so she can carry us home," it was the right thing to say and he launched into the crash course in helicopter feeding without further hesitation.

It was going to get dark very soon and then in a mere four hours they were going to get their partners back.

-H5O-

He woke up sharply, flinging his hands out to grasp the thin sheets of his cot, giving him the impression of steadiness. His stomach rolled and he swallowed thickly, forcing his meager rising stomach contents back where they belonged with disgusted stubbornness before pushing up to lean against the cool wall. He moved slowly, his body aching all over from so many reasons he couldn't even bother to feel indignant about it anymore. He just wanted the pain to freaking leave him alone.

He blinked slowly and looked around the bright room, realizing that it must have been the lights turning on that startled him out of the apparently deep slumber he'd been languishing in.

Steve wasn't there.

He forced the flood of icy panic down sharply and tried to remain calm. He checked the room again, slower this time, but there was still no sign of his partner.

For a brief moment he entertained the notion that he was beginning to crack, that Steve had never been there in the first place and he'd fabricated the entire night as a scarily unhinged way of dealing with his current predicament. But no, he was built sterner than that; Marcel had hurt him in more ways than he wanted to think on but he was not ready to break yet. Plus every time he shifted his shoulder reminded him that only a short while ago it had connected with the wall that was Steve and damn near broken itself on the man.

So Steve was here, he just wasn't in the room. Neither scenario was all that appealing as Danny would rather Steve were no where near this mess. Steve might want to play knight in shining Kevlar but Danny just wanted him out of Marcel's reach, preferably taking care of his daughter until Danny managed his own escape. Steve's not being in the room with him meant that Danny had literally slept through him being taken away. The unease and guilt this caused stabbed at him sharply and he had to take a few deep breaths in difference to throwing himself at the door in a screaming fit of rage. It hadn't done anything for him in the past and he'd never been a big fan of punishing his body for no beneficial reason.

With no windows and no clock he had no idea of the time. Steve could have been gone for minutes and the door shutting had been what awoke Danny. Or he could have been gone for an entire day. Not knowing ramped up his worry. He knew first hand what Marcel was capable of.

The sharp sound of the doors locks pulling back told him he'd probably know soon enough.

Will was there, a lone guard, and when he didn't bother with any restraining devices Danny understood that if he was going to make things difficult they would take it out on Steve. He'd more than proven to them that he wouldn't let them hurt the guy that had become closer to him over the last year than his own brother. Well, adopted brother, but Danny wasn't one to limit the concept of family with blood.

Will laid his usual proprietary paw on Danny's shoulder as he went to move out the door. Danny wanted to throw it off, but he was afraid his usual reaction might make the man more eager to hurt Steve if given the chance. Besides, Will generally let go once he was within the presence of his boss, lest he be seen manhandling the boss's _property_ with too much enthusiasm. Danny still tensed up tighter than Chin when an unsuitable came poking around Kono.

He was disoriented all over again when they passed by the windows and he saw that it was black outside, the ship cast in eerie glow from the lamps spread across her decks. The cranes loomed like metal dinosaurs, the heavy containers colours washed out in the distance. He frowned and cast a look at his guard, uneasy at the close scrutiny he was under.

"It's not still early morning?" he demanded more than asked and Will pursed unimpressed lips.

"It's night," was his short response, which was more than he usually got before the hand at the base of his neck squeezed vice-like and he was forced to stop. He dropped his shoulder a bit and tested the grip, wondering if it was worth pulling away when Will shoved his back against the window. He couldn't help the grunt that escaped as it jarred all the tiny, inflamed wounds on his torso and he glared up at the towering man. Will clearly liked being in charge of Danny if the pleased glint in his eyes were anything to go by. Danny didn't move as the man stared at him a long moment. What was with the people and the staring on this damn boat?

"The man who failed at stealing you back," he started and Danny nearly snorted at that, because he was pretty sure Steve hadn't really tried yet, even if he'd messed up by getting caught "he means a lot to you."

"Not really," Danny instantly denied, knowing the lie was as easy to read as Clinton's denial of ever having an affair. Will slid his thumb down from Danny's shoulder, right over one of the staple wounds, and pressed. Danny jerked back, his movement halted by the solid glass behind him, and glared fiercely at the unimpressed guard.

"Things are not going to be easy for him here. Mr. Marcel does not like the hold he has over you," he announced casually, like betraying his employers feelings was not the big deal Danny would have personally believed.

"Marcel's a fruitcake," Danny refuted, and sucked in a sharp breath when Will pressed harder, apparently not caring for the disrespect to his boss.

"I can make things easier on your friend, for a price."

For a moment Danny's mind boggled. Will rarely said more than one or two words at a time to him and the proposition came out of left field as far as he was concerned. Then he narrowed his eyes in disgust.

"I'm not for sale."

"Your services are."

"You're not my type," he snapped viciously and Will pressed in close, stinking of stale smoke mixed with the salty scent that clung to people at sea.

"If you want your friend to stay in one piece," Will said quietly with his heavy accent, "then you will use your abilities for my betterment whenever I ask."

"You sure your boss won't mind? I mean, I'm sure if he was okay with it he would have already ordered me to fix up that chronic bronchitis you have going for you, or maybe have me take care of that bald spot on the back of your big head," Danny sneered, trying not to gag as the smoke smell mingled with his near constant low-level seasickness. After a moment of staring down at Danny with his beady little eyes Will smiled coldly and pulled back, his hand remaining clamped in place.

"We'll see what you have to say in a weeks time hm? When your friend begins to resent ever having met you."

The intended dig hit home and Danny just managed to avoid flinching in reaction before Will started directing him down the corridor again, towards the now familiar stairwell. The echo of their heavy steps filled the late night silence for long moments before Danny was stopped again, outside the tiny mess hall he was usually forced to eat in.

"Are you going to find you're appetite tonight or will food be wasted on you again?" Will grunted and Danny tossed him a cutting look.

"Are you going to find your soul tonight or is it already too corrupted?" he parroted back. Will's eyes flashed, which Danny applauded himself for, before bypassing the mess hall altogether and taking Danny to another familiar room with cushy wingbacked chairs, massive floor to ceiling windows and a polished round coffee table.

The unfamiliar thing in the room was Steve.

Steve sitting tall in a heavy looking metal chair, cuffs looped through the thick round spindles and locking his hands behind him. He was still dressed in the same standard outfit he had been wearing when Danny had last seen him, the only difference was that this time he was certain the dark material hid a few additional blood stains down the front.

"Jesus McGarrett, are you trying to permanently disfigure yourself?" he barked the moment Steve's eyes met his. His nose was bleeding and he had a split lip (again), his one cheek was redder then the other, his eyes were at that half-mast state that he adopted when he was exhausted (or hungover, had a headache, or forgot his sunglasses), but the moment their eyes met Steve's brightened with such deep relief Danny nearly forgot what he was going to say. "You're not going to win any Miss Hawai'i pageants if you keep looking like you lost a few rounds to Sugar Ray."

"I wouldn't have lost," Steve instantly denied, always protecting his manly pride, before raising his ridiculous eyebrow. "Miss me sleeping beauty?" his grin probably revealed more than he intended but it eased a bit of Danny's worry.

"Like I'd miss hemorrhoids," he grumbled and then glared at Will when he dug his fingers in until Danny moved in the direction he wanted. He lowered himself gingerly to the couch and resisted rubbing his sore shoulder when Will finally released him and moved to stand behind the couch. Danny didn't miss the way Steve's eyes darkened, or the way he tracked Will's movement for a moment, like a giant, scary-ass panther stalking its prey, before his attention abruptly flickered back to Danny and looked him over.

"How was your day honey?" Danny spared him a faux-sunny smile and leaned carefully back in the seat. The way Steve's arms were pulled behind him looked like it would hurt but Steve gave no indication that it bothered him at all.

"Went to the doctors," he made like it was no big deal even as he pulled out his 'I'm going to use these people as shark bait the next time I go deep sea fishing' face. "Didn't get a lollipop," he sulked.

"As if you need the sugar, you already have enough energy to keep an entire daycare busy by yourself," Danny looked to Johann standing off by the door and the other new guard, Mr. Black, hanging out against the windows. The one good thing Danny would say about this room would be the large windows that took up nearly an entire wall. They didn't look original, he figured Marcel had had them installed when he'd spent a few million upgrading this working ship to his own personal luxury liner.

He missed being outside.

"Any idea what time it is?" Steve asked in lieu answering the jest and Danny shook his head.

"They took my watch too," he leaned his head back on the couch, closing his eyes briefly. He'd apparently slept for at least fifteen hours but he still felt drained. When he opened his eyed it was to find Steve silent, once again watching him with those big worried eyes of his and Danny was almost tempted to look around and see if there was a kicked puppy in the room. "Don't give me that look," he ordered instead, trying for haughty and pretty sure he fell flat of the mark.

"I'm not giving you a look," was Steve's predicted response complete with his sour-grape face.

"You look like I just suggested that swimming was the cause of world-hunger," he wanted to wave his arms around to make the point, but he was trying to conserve energy for whatever they were gathered in this room for. Also it would be rude seeing as Steve's own were locked tightly behind. Plus it hurt. Steve shifted in his seat, his concern not disappearing but definitely mingling with irritation now.

"That is not the look I was giving you," he denied.

"Then what was it? And before you answer that keep in mind that of the two of us _I'm _the one who can actually see your face, all blood covered and bruised as it is. Do I even want to know why you're physically damaged again when the last time I saw you you were only damaged mentally?"

"Don't worry about it," Steve brushed Danny's concern over his injuries aside, which was typical. Danny scowled at him but bit off a snide response as Marcel strolled into the room, followed closely by his pet doctor. Danny took one look at the doctor and laughed. Loudly. The doctor glowered at him through his one unswollen eye but Danny was already pulling his joy at the sight back under wraps and looked appraisingly at Steve, who was looking rather pleased with himself.

"Mr. Williams," Marcel greeted, eyes flitting between him and Steve briefly before he made a show of taking up his favourite chair.

"Detective," Danny bit off despite the futility of it. Marcel gazed at him for a long, hard moment before nodding his head.

"I see," with a quick nod Black stepped forward from his place by the window and backhanded Steve with such viciousness that his entire body rocked with the blow. Danny swore but before he could move Will's hands were back, clamped onto his shoulders and digging his thumbs into the space between his neck and clavicle. The mild warning was painful enough. Steve pulled himself straight immediately, his eyes squinting as he regrouped and fresh blood trickled from his nose. "What was it you were saying, _Mr. _Williams?" Marcel waited a moment before giving a tight smile. Danny clenched his lips together as neutrally as possible, biting his cheeks to keep from lashing out and Marcel nodded with satisfaction.

Across from them Steve swirled some blood around in his mouth and leaned forward, spitting it onto the floor before adopting as relaxed a position he could while cuffed to the chair. Marcel looked like he wanted to have the guard hit him again but called for Dr. Smidt to step forward instead. The doctor shuffled, a slight limp present that told Danny Steve had gotten more than one swing in that afternoon.

"Mr. Williams, fix up Dr. Smidt if you will so we can carry on with our night."

"Don't do it Dan-" Steve's words cut off with another nasty fist to his face. Danny kept his face as impassive as he could manage as Steve once again straightened in his seat, his eyes focusing in on Danny's all earnest and rebellious, anger glittering for all to see. Marcel looked at Danny expectantly.

Danny sighed and nodded, Smidt stepping forward with unrestrained glee at getting to experience Danny's mojo first hand. Steve said nothing from his seat and Danny didn't look at his partner as he wrapped his hand around Smidt's wrist and healed the son of a bitch. The dirty used feeling that normally made his stomach squirm unpleasantly when doing Marcel's bidding felt even worse with Steve's dark eyes glowering at him. As soon as he finished he flung the doctors hand away and leaned back in his seat, swallowing thickly. The doctors injuries had been piddly compared to Steve's, they barely took any effort to fix, but it didn't do anything to abate his lingering tiredness.

"That's incredible," Smidt was still standing there staring at him while pressing his fingers to his healed eye.

"Yeah I'm a regular miracle worker," he agreed derisively.

"I mean I've seen you work, obviously," oh dear god the man was babbling. Danny decided then and there that he preferred him silent and moody. "But I hadn't really thought to ask how it actually feels," that got Danny's attention quickly and he looked up. Smidt choose that moment to move away to his ever present bag of tricks so Danny turned to Steve instead.

"How does it feel?" He nearly wanted to curse himself stupid for asking the question aloud, and it was impossible to ignore the people watching him in the room, but this was an opportunity he really didn't want to pass up. He'd always wondered…

"It feels warm," the doctor explained after a moment. Danny's throat bobbed as he swallowed, and Steve's hard look broke for a moment, turning soft and supportive like when he'd been giving Gracie her first surfing lesson. Danny scowled at him on principle, Steve rolling his eyes in response before tucking his fuzzy little decidedly not super-killing-machine emotions away for another, more appropriate, time. The fact that he showed that much sincerity in front of these asshats betrayed his exhaustion.

The guard, Black, lashed out again this time digging into Steve's kidney's and the SEAL grunted, curling forward slightly before straightening up. He had his robot face on now, looking stony and undisturbed. Danny was very much not undisturbed.

"What the hell was that for?" He snarled at Marcel, "we did nothing to deserve _that_! There was no provoking whatsoever," Danny forcibly stopped talking when Black clocked Steve in the face again, this time the ring he was wearing slicing Steve's cheek open and Danny was nearly overcome with rage, his words gathering in his throat begging to be unleashed. He bit his tongue and settled for breathing heavily through his nostrils as Marcel watched him blandly.

For a long moment there was no sound in the room but Danny's deep breaths, the tinkle of glass on glass, and the occasional distant groan from the ship.

"It is late," Marcel accepted the fine tumbler of amber liquid Johann stiffly passed him before moving back to the door. Danny caught a flash of a real gun holstered under his black jacket as he passed by, deciding that the lack of taser could only be a bad thing. "I have had a very long day negotiating our current shipments special delivery, arranging for your next session with a very important client in Shanghai," he paused to take a sip of his drink, the look on his face suggesting it was a very fine vintage before delicately placing it on the side table, "and deciding where to send your very, very dear partner for safekeeping once we dock."

It felt like his entire body locked into one giant knot the instant Marcel's words translated in his brain. They were going to send Steve away. Shit. Shit shit shit no no no this was not good! There was no where, way, or how it that would end well for Steve or Danny if they were split up. Marcel would be able to do whatever he wanted to Steve from a distance, Danny would no longer have the option of resisting even a little if he didn't want Steve to suffer immediate, possibly irreparable harm. Everything about Marcel's current posture and face bespoke of his absolute control.

For one dark, malicious moment Danny considered reaching out and draining every last drop of life-force out of the man, including his charred soul, until the point where Marcel would never recover. His fingers twitched and his stomach flip-flopped in sick agony the moment his mind caught up to his instinctive response to the threat.

He wouldn't let them take Steve.

He would do whatever-

"It's late huh?" Steve's completely unconcerned voice grounded Danny's dangerous thoughts and he looked to find his partner still sitting straight and relaxed in his seat, his dark eyes promising many broken bones despite his apparent attempt at being all nonchalant. Yeah, Danny was pretty sure the guy had been born without his subtle bone. Stealth he had in spades, subtlety? That gene had skipped his generation with a leap that spanned the universe. "What time is it?" There was nothing at all innocent about that question.

Marcel glanced at Steve, took another slow drink from his glass, swirling the liquid around a moment, and then went back to what was apparently his favourite hobby in the world: Danny watching.

"I do believe Mr. Williams agreed to demonstrate a new facility of his powers yesterday evening. I would very much like to see it now."

"He didn't agree to anything," Steve was suddenly a lot less relaxed.

"You were rather undisposed in that moment, but I assure you we came to an understanding," his eyes narrowed warningly at Danny. "I believe the postal service was involved at one point." Danny felt sick.

"Danny, listen to me," Steve sounded every bit like the commanding officer that he was. "You will not do a thing he tells you to. Under _no _circumstances will you give in, do you here me!" Danny ignored him, unable to look away from the knowing quirk of Marcel's entire face.

"Doctor, if you will," Marcel gestured with his glass at Danny and the doctor moved forward with customary fashion and reached out to unbutton Danny's shirt. He sharply slapped the seeking fingers away, his lip curling wrathfully at the guy before slowly undoing them himself. There was no way in hell the doctor was going to undress him in front of the guy that had pretty much become his best-friend/brother/family. He wasn't going to suffer that humiliation on top of all the others. When he was done he couldn't look at Steve, but it was hard to not see him watching with sinister silence from across the coffee table that separated them; the large windows behind reflecting his tightly clenched fists.

The doctor began sticking his little monitors in place, some of them pressing in overtop of the swollen punctures and tears in his skin. Removing the thick staples had been more painful then receiving them in the first place. It had involved pliers.

"I just want you to understand that my previous caveats still stand," Danny was very proud of himself when his voice didn't waver or crack, because it felt like a near thing once the Doctor had moved off and flipped open his laptop monitor.

"I really don't think you're in the position to be making threats," Marcel, God help him, actually sounded amused.

Steve was still deadly silent in his seat.

"Now, as the doctor has informed me, in order for you to heal your own injuries you must be able to draw from the energy pool of another, much as you draw from your own reserves to help them." There was a pause as the Doctor confirmed with a nod. "You will use Mr. McGarrett for this demonstration please."

Danny didn't move.

His chest felt tight, his fingers curled closed and his nails bit into his palms and he felt overcome with horror. He was shaking his head in denial before actively giving his body permission. "No," he swallowed heavily. Marcel's anger was fast and furious and this time Steve was left gasping to catch his breath after the force of the hits.

"Choose someone else," Danny demanded, practically begged, and Marcel's entire face darkened at the continued denial.

"You will demonstrate with Mr. McGarrett. As he has worked so hard to be here with you it is only fair that he receive his share of attention," he stood and moving swiftly to stand behind Steve, grabbing his short brown hair and angling his neck back sharply. Steve's legs stretched out in reaction, trying to help alleviate the strain and suddenly there was a large, shiny, sharp looking knife pressed tight and personal with Steve's neck. Marcel wasn't being overly concerned with care, the blade slicing a shallow line that was already beading with blood where it pressed.

Danny didn't know what to do and for a moment he was stuck between two worlds: one with his fathers sad, solemn eyes ordering him to take take take and then get out of the car. Ordering Danny to leave him behind when he was too weak to drag himself after Danny; the other where Steve's nearly closed eyes and fiercely clenched teeth were ordering him to refuse and at the same time forgiving him if he gave in. Danny was so twisted and livid with indecision that he completely missed it when Anook unexpectedly slammed into the room.

He caught up pretty quickly when Marcel's knife lifted enough that Steve could draw a proper breath again, and Danny could allow himself to stop staring in horror. Marcel curved to glare as angrily as he ever had at her, his normally pale face darkening in displeasure.

She didn't falter, her long, smooth strides carrying her across the room in seconds and he leaned right into Marcel's space urgently. Danny had no idea what she was saying, but the confused alarm on Marcel's face, quickly hidden with his generally unflappable air, was enough to tell him that something very unexpected was interrupting his evening plans. He pulled away from Steve, his knife flipping shut and retreating to the deep pockets of his charcoal dress pants. He gave one cold, assessing look at Steve before rushing the door.

"Will! Met Mij. U twee zien ze!" he snapped over his shoulder as he left the room, Will and Anook so tight on his heals they were practically piggybacking.

Danny stared after them a brief moment, relief and bewilderment welling up inside before the two guards still present pulled up closer and drew their weapons. Johann wasted no time snapping Danny's sore wrists into cuffs that were apparently as standard for him to carry as a police officer before he stepped clear and focused intently on the door. Black watched Danny and Steve with cool, suspicious eyes. The doctor looked alarmed, glancing between them all with a clear uncertainty as to what was expected of him.

Steve looked scarily satisfied.

"Wait," Danny pulled his shirt closed, ignoring how Steve's eyes drifted briefly to his wounded chest and his satisfaction melted away into calculated anger. "This has something to do with you doesn't it?" He directed the frivolous question at Steve, needing to speak for the sake of speaking and trying to control the sudden rush of hopeful nerves. Johann glared sharply between them, eyes narrowed harshly and Steve smirked quick and humourless in Danny's direction.

"Sure," he agreed with a shrug. He looked terrible, blood trailing down his face in a macabre pattern, the cut on his neck smearing around the collar of his black t-shirt. He made being tied up and beaten look like old hat. Freakin James Bond wannabe.

"Well, great," Danny's hands were shaking a little, which only added to the frustrating task of closing the tiny buttons with bound hands. He finished number three and paused to glare at Steve. "Would you mind letting me in on whatever it is you have planned here Steven? Maybe give me a hint as to how I should help? I'd settle for a quick monologue of how you're going to kill all the bad guys in the room after picking your cuffs Schwarzeneggar style, should you choose that route," he graciously (if he did think so himself) allowed, managing to draw a little more of the guards attention.

"Quiet!" Black ordered, stepping closer to Steve's side and glaring cautiously between them. Steve, for his part, apparently didn't understand the reference if his briefly confused frown could be read at face value.

"What? No," he shook his head shortly before adopting his 'the shits about to hit the fan and I plan to be the one flinging it' look he generally pulled out for his more daring moments. Danny prepared to launch into action. "I don't have anything to pick the locks with," Steve admitted, sounding slightly put out by this before his lips curled up ever so slightly. "But you know what I can do?" Danny flicked his gaze to the glass wall behind Steve just in time to witness one hand securely grip the cuff around the other in the reflection. "I _can_ dislocate my thumb."

With a yank his hand slid free of the metal ring and he sprung to his feet, whipping the heavy metal chair around with the force of a vindictive SEAL who had been desperately waiting to unleash his wrath.

Black barely had time to see it coming.

Tbc.

Now we're getting somewhere


	17. Frying Pans and Downfalls

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Frying Pans and Downfalls

-H5O-

The thing to understand about Steve was that his smiling eyes and laid back friendliness, his willingness and want to see the good in people, his charm and ease and ability to come across as a complete nerd and goofball when the situation permitted were all very real parts of what made him who he is. But these good parts of Steve, these important parts, also serve the darker purpose of hiding his other strengths. Disguising his lethal intelligence and even more lethal speed and strength. Misleading people into forgetting or never realizing that seventeen years of being trained as a weapon and putting that training into practice for god and country had not degraded a fraction with his last year and a half on Five-O.

Danny wasn't dumb though, and he'd had most of Steve's number by the end of their first case together. He'd promised himself back then that no matter how close they got, no matter how much the guy got under his skin (which Danny had known would be inevitable after their first case together) he wouldn't forget that the man was also a soldier.

Most days Steve made that fact impossible to forget anyway, what with storing of grenades in his car like most people store spare tires.

What all this narrowed down to was that when Steve was ready to make the move Danny had known the man had been sitting on, Danny was right there with him. Not that either of them had been subtle about their intentions anyway.

Steve was up and smashing his chair into the guard closest to him the second he finished talking. Black saw it coming at the last possible moment and only just managed to throw his hands up in time to stop it from connecting directly with his head. When he grabbed the metal legs Steve lunged forward and shoved the chair hard, sending Black staggering until his back hit the floor to ceiling window with enough force to rattle it. The taser disappeared from his hand but Danny didn't have a chance to see where it went because his attention was occupied by the more dangerous persona non grata in the room with them: Johann.

Johann, who had watched his coworker just get smashed with a metal chair without a flicker of emotion. Johann wasn't touchy feely like Will was, but he was still very close to the top of Danny's least favourite person list, and when he trained his very large gun on Steve he skyrocketed to the number one on said list.

Danny knew with icy certainty that he was too far away to be able to block the shot or tackle Johaan out of the way. But he had come into this fight already knowing that the coldly stoic guard wouldn't hesitate to shoot Steve if given the opportunity and he'd come up with a back-up plan. He lunged across the couch and wrapped his hand around the abandoned heavy glass tumbler that Marcel had been enjoying earlier, the amber liquid swirling violently within. Standing and twisting he pulled his arm back and threw the glass as hard as he could at Johann. His aim was true and it smashed right into the side of Johaan's face, the liquor dancing in the air as it spilled and the glass cracking from the impact. Later Danny would insist that had been his intention all along and leave out the bit where he'd just been hoping to hit the guard _anywhere_ as a distraction.

The loud crack of the gun going off in the small space was nearly deafening, the bullet (thank god) swinging wide and punching a splintering hole through the window instead of through Steve.

The blow forced Johann to rock back a step, blood starting to trickle down from his hairline and into his eye but he was already shaking his head to clear it and pulling his gun back up to aim at Steve once more.

Danny had already been in the process of rushing him, taking the few precious seconds of distraction to step up onto the couch and launch himself off its armrest like a tiny missile. Johann wasn't as tall as his counterparts, but he was built like a rugby player with forty pounds on Danny and felt as solid as Steve when Danny drove into him; and just like Steve he went down under the impact, the gun firing wildly again and Danny just prayed it didn't hit his partner as they both crashed to the ground.

Somehow Johann had managed to twist so that he was mostly on top when they landed, his shoulder digging hard into Danny's chest, snapping the air out of his lungs and driving the back of his head into the ground hard enough that Danny saw stars. Danny scrambled to recover, knowing he was at a disadvantage; weak and already hurt. His lower body was effectively pinned by the man so he thrust up with his chest, ignoring the screaming flare of pain at the movement, and plowed his elbow at Johann's face. He would have settled for hitting his throat or ear, or the tip of his nose but Johann was better trained and he had the upper advantage.

Danny's hit didn't land.

It was blocked with a solid forearm and Danny only had a moment to suck a deep gulp of air back into his lungs before a heavy open handed slap to his chest stole it right back. He gasped, his body curling to protect the furiously burning injuries and before he got a chance to catch his breath he was flipped embarrassingly easily onto his stomach. Johann pressed a knee into his back, grabbed cruelly at his hair and began pulling his head back from the ground. Danny tried to get his arms under him, flailing to usurp Johann's intention of smashing his face into the unyielding metal floor but his sweaty palms slipped at that crucial moment, he couldn't find purchase, couldn't get a grip, couldn't do anything. He didn't close his eyes to await the inevitable connection, wanting to be able to brace for the pain.

The pain didn't come.

The weight on his back abruptly disappeared, ripping a few strands of hair with it, and he twisted his freed head around just in time to see Johann being thrown off of him, tossed away like a scrap of clothing under Steve's wrath. His head connected with the highly polished coffee table, a crunch and snap sounding throughout the room that Danny didn't actively hear, his full attention riveted on the guard Steve had left unattended in order to help Danny.

"Behind!" he managed to gasp out in warning, his voice croaky and hoarse but apparently understandable as Steve, his face a closed off emotionless robot mask, whipped around smoothly to meet the threat head on.

Danny had to admit Steve and Black looked like they were evenly matched, trading blow for blow and block for block in a series of movements so fast they looked choreographed and impossible. Black kept aiming his focused attacks at Steve's left arm and Danny belatedly realized that that was the hand he must have dislocated to break free. A look at the deadly calm on Steve's face reassured Danny that his partner was as batshit crazy as ever and more than capable of handling this asshole.

So of course that was the moment Smidt made his reappearance, popping up from the floor behind Steve and the guard. He was pale and clearly freaked out but he was brandishing the taser that had been dropped earlier and seemed to know how to use it as he directed it at Steve.

Danny pushed to his knees, spying Johann's lost gun poking out from under the couch and he half crawled half ran to grab at it.

Turns out he needn't have worried.

Steve had seen the Doctor take aim and a split moment later he delivered a nasty uppercut that Black didn't anticipate. The blow to the guards head shook a few screws loose enough that he momentarily lost his focus. Steve grabbed him and shoved him directly into the path of the taser just as the doctor was firing. The taser probes latched into Blacks back, digging right in and delivering a nasty charge that had him beginning to curl in on himself.

Steve didn't waste the advantage, barely blinking between throwing the guy into the path of the weapon and taking a driving step forward to lash out with a side kick that was so powerful it could probably fell a tree. The guard went flying backwards under the force of the blow, still shaking with electricity even as he crashed heavily into Smidt.

Neither man had time to brace themselves before their combined weight fell against the window. With two bullet holes already punching through it the glass gave little resistance at the unwelcome force. It shattered into thousands of tiny tempered pieces, glittering like crumbled ice shards as it collapsed. There was a startled scream from Smidt that pierced the air, his arms pinwheeling desperately in an attempt to grab onto something that could help him, anything that could halt their fall. His eyes, normally as cold as his hands when he touched Danny, were wide and glassy with terror as they hung on the threshold for a second that seemed to last an eternity. When the two men fell over the windows lip into the night they had nothing but the crumbling glass for company.

The room didn't fall quiet as Danny wasted a long moment staring in shock at where there used to be a transparent wall and two living beings that had tormented Dnny for so long now. Steve stood only a few feet from the precipice, which was still far too close for comfort, his feet braced, shoulders drawn back, head high and alert for further threats and his good fist curled loose and ready to strike any future threat.

Danny refused to acknowledge that at his angle from the floor Steve looked like a damned comic book hero. Instead he looked away to give Steve a moment and finally wrapped his fingers around Johaan's gun, palming it securely before using the couch to drag his sorry ass to its feet.

His bad knee just about gave out on him when he put weight on it and he grunted as he adjusted his balance, wincing as every movement pulled at his chest. He was a mess.

Steve was at his side in a second, his overly warm hand wrapping just above Danny's elbow in support, the gentleness of the grip at odds with the violence of moments before and darkness still danced in his eyes.

"You okay?" Steve asked, his voice deeper than usual from the fight, blood leaking down the side of his face and he took a moment to swipe where it was dripping into his eye. Danny wanted to laugh, the absurdity of it all nearly too much, but there was nothing even remotely funny about this.

"I'm good," he lied. There wasn't another answer they could afford to admit to right now. "We need to check Johann," he looked over to where the guy was still lying facedown between the couch and the coffee table, the tiniest smear of blood was marring the highly polished wood.

"He's dead," Steve didn't spare the guy a glance, instead his eyes drifted to Danny's still mostly open shirt, cataloguing the massive bruising and swollen cuts beneath, before looking at his knee like he had x-ray vision and could actually see the ligaments stretching beyond their means. "Broke his neck in the fall. We need to move, a couple of the crew saw the other two fall and could be here any minute. Plus we don't want our ride to leave without us." Here he gave a little grin, the closest to un-soldier Steve that the guy would allow at the moment and Danny nodded in agreement.

Chances were pretty high that Smidt and Black hadn't survived the five story fall to the deck below, and even if the majority of the crew weren't privy to Danny and Steve's presence on the ship they were still armed, dangerous, and being paid well enough by Marcel to want to head right up here and investigate. They may even use their guns a little if given the chance.

"I'd hate to be anything but punctual," Danny refrained from rolling his eyes and hobbled to the door, opening it and peering out before stepping into the still empty corridor; gun raised to clear away any unfriendlies in his path. He took them directly to the stairwell and they made it down one level before the shouting and heavy steps of boots on the stairs drifted up to them. Danny turned and moved jerkily through the door and onto the next landing, the hallway thankfully empty, before limping a few doors down and gesturing to Steve to enter the door on his right. With a tight frown Steve did as told and Danny followed after before gently sliding the door shut.

"Danny, we need to keep moving-" he started and Danny glared at him fiercely, planting a hand on Steve's chest and shoving him against the wall beside the door.

"Shut-up," Danny barked quietly, flicking the safety on his weapon and tucking it into the back of his pants, wishing for all the world that he had his holster because the feel of gun metal against his skin had always made him uncomfortable. Steve opened his mouth to protest and Danny waved a finger warningly in his face, glaring up at the guy. "What did I just say, huh? Did I invite you to impress upon me your thoughts? No, I did not, so kindly shut-up while I increase our chances of getting out of here alive," he ordered.

Like always Steve decided that following a simple request was just beyond his scope of abilities.

"I'm not kidding Danny, we need to move-"

"I _know!_" Danny growled and wrapped his hand around Steve's left wrist, pulling the limb up for inspection. The thumb was folded in toward his palm grotesquely, locked in place by contracting muscles that had to be cramping, the joint sticking out like a rounded lump under the skin. It hadn't had time to start swelling yet, but it would soon. To make things worse Steve had managed to rip layers of skin away from his thumb and pinky finger when he had ripped his hand from the cuffs.

"You have some serious issues Steven, you know that right?" He turned Steve's palm over inspecting it briefly from the other side.

"No I don't, not when I have you to-" Danny ruthlessly snapped the joint back into place and Steve tried to reflexively yank his hand back. Danny dug his fingers tight around Steve's wrist and glared up at him, reaching out with his gift and healing the sting of the injury until it was no longer an issue. It only took a couple of seconds and he instantly saw the tight lines around Steve's eyes loosen as the pain disappeared. "-fix me up," he finished, flashing a brief but cheeky grin. Danny wanted to yell at him about all the _wrong_ in that statement, but instead he began feeling out for the other injuries he knew his friend had, bruises upon bruises and a possibly fractured rib…

Steve wrapped his hand around Danny's and peeled his fingers off of his wrist.

"No, Danny," he stopped him and Danny nearly flinched back, awareness flooding past his instinct to fix and he paled as he realized that maybe he'd been taking advantage of Steve, he should never have just presumed that Steve would be okay with him using his ability to help him. He'd never asked anybody, never gotten consent… "Stop it," Steve's command was firm and Danny looked up to meet his stern face. "You think I haven't noticed you get tired? That using your ability thing drains you? I can't carry you right now Danny, we don't have the time and you're already almost past your last reserves here. We need to keep moving," the soldier was mingling with friend but the urgency was one and the same and Danny wondered if maybe he was a little more out of it than he'd originally assumed, if Steve had to remind him to keep moving in the field. He nodded and pulled the gun from the small of his back, pressing it into Steve's once again fully functioning hand.

Steve hesitated a brief moment before nodding and quickly checked the weapon. He frowned at it, pulling back on the slide and when it jammed half way Danny realized that the gun was useless, either from an empty casing caught or a bullet stuck in the barrel. Either way it was bad news and Danny should have picked up on it when he had first grabbed the gun. He hadn't checked his weapon properly. A feeling of ill shock wormed through his chest. Steve tucked the weapon into the small of his own back, no doubt just in case they needed it for show later, and refrained from making a comment beyond the concerned look he gave Danny. Danny sighed and rubbed quickly at his thunderously aching head before standing a bit taller and looking his friend in the eye.

"Where do we need to get to?" he asked. Steve locked his worry away and buckled back down to business.

"The helicopter pad."

"Right, okay. We need to go down two more levels and head to the aft. It would normally be straight forward, but I have the feeling we might meet a bit of resistance on the way."

"We'll deal. Let's go," Steve took point this time, listening carefully at the door before quietly opening and visually checking the hall. When the coast was confirmed clear they slipped down the corridor as quietly as they could. The sudden cry of the warning bell pierced the air, the wailing urgent despite its softness as it carried throughout the ship, no doubt alerting every last crew member that something was wrong, and Steve and Danny picked up their pace. Danny ignored the stabbing pain threatening to collapse his knee as they stormed along. Just when they were about to reach the stairwell door the unmistakable sound of stomping boots and a voice shouting just behind the metal warned them that they were about to get company.

Between one moment and the next Steve seemed to disappear right before Danny's eyes. Like a damned magic trick; now you see him…now you don't and Danny was left standing stupidly staring as the door to the stairwell thrust open and a man wrapped in a heavy grey canvas jacket rushed out.

The guy froze only two steps from Danny, surprise clear on his face as the door drifted shut behind him. Clearly he hadn't been expecting to find Danny so easily as it took him a few moments to raise his large semi-automatic Smith and Wesson at him in warning. Those seconds cost him.

Steve swiftly dropped his legs from the pipes he had been clinging to above the mans head, his thighs landing on either side of the armed mans shoulders before closing tight and deadly around his neck and squeezing. The guy dropped his weapon, his hands flying to Steve's thighs to try and pry their crushing grip away from his neck. His eyes bulged in alarm under his black hat, clearly panicking and started beating into Steve. Steve held on ruthlessly, his hands securely clamped in the pipes running above his head, his muscles flexing rigidly beneath his dirty t-shirt, his face void of all emotion beyond concentration as he waited for his captive to cease struggling and then, not long after, loose consciousness.

When Steve unhooked his ankles and unclamped his legs the man fell to the ground like…a guy who had just been strangled into unconsciousness. Danny's fingers twitched towards him but he ignored the urge to help with the ease of a lifetime of practice. The fact that he was undoubtedly a bad guy helped.

"You are unbelievable," he glared at Steve as the man dropped lightly to the ground and picked up the weapon in a movement so smooth one would never believe he had been strapped to a chair and beaten not too long ago. "Are all SEALs trained to be ninja's or is this a personal thing?"

"Being a SEAL is a personal thing," Steve murmured, already turning away and checking the stairwell, "but we all want to secretly be ninja's." He pushed the door open, sweeping the area beyond with his newly acquired (and functioning) weapon before slipping in fully, Danny close on his heels. It took mere seconds before they cleared the two levels and stepped into the corridor beyond. Danny nodded in the direction they needed and they made it five meters before they heard the sound of running feet and shouting in the stairwell behind them, the droning of the warning klaxon not loud enough to cover it.

Steve opened the nearest door on his left and Danny chased him through it, closing it and getting out of the way just in time for Steve to drag a mess hall chair and jam it under the knob. It wouldn't hold for long as a lock if someone really wanted to get in. They eyed it a silent moment.

"So you got me a helicopter ride?" Danny tried to play off that he wasn't breathing ridiculously heavily, his body crying out for rest because he was just a little too _everything_ for this shit.

"Is it too ostentatious this early in our relationship?" Steve turned to survey the room, his gaze locking on the door at the opposite end, beyond the metal tables that Danny had been trying, with only moderate success, to eat most of his meals at this last month.

"That depends on whether or not it's the Station Wagon or Rolls Royce of helicopters. I have sophisticated tastes you know," they moved towards the back door simultaneously, as in sync as ever.

"Chin and Kono picked it out," Steve shrugged, his movements economical and Danny appreciated the effort at communication as it helped him focus better when his world was already all tilty and fuzzy around the edges. The shifting of the ship beneath his feet didn't help any.

"Great. It probably has surfboards for rotors and cute little pineapple's painted on the side," he grumbled and they paused by the door, Steve glancing at him questioningly. "Kitchen," he answered the question quietly, keeping in mind that they were supposed to be keeping as low a profile as possible here, which wasn't always their strong suit. "I've never been in there, but I think it has access either to the next room or out back. We should be able to get to the landing pad from there." Steve pushed the door open and they moved cautiously into the room.

Stainless steel counters took up the length of both walls, a third counter travelling up the center of the room with a massive stove and ventilation system at its epicenter. Pots and pans hung from specialized hooks over the counters, containers were locked down in designated brackets along the wall counters and one of the largest spice racks Danny had ever seen took up a good chunk of the opposite wall.

He grabbed a skillet on his way passed the sink, rotating the handle in his grip until it felt secure. This pan was, along with the fact that he'd spent a large portion of his younger years working in a kitchen so he could earn independence for emancipation from the foster system, his saving grace. All those years of listening to the walk-in fridge open and close had made him specially attuned to its telltale click. He turned just in time to see the chef, the man who hated Danny on sight and served him his food with a scowl every single time, step from it with an armful of vegetables.

Maybe Danny should have made an effort to curb the man's ingrained hate towards him.

Apparently the chef had a higher level of training than the last gunman Steve had taken out as he dropped his colourful load without hesitation and grabbed a conveniently placed knife from the magnetic strip on the wall beside him. In one breath to the next he hurled the sharp, shiny blade right at Danny. Danny got the skillet up to block it just in time, the sound of metal chipping off of metal unmistakable. Danny dropped the heavy skillet slightly from where it was protecting his face and saw the guy reaching quickly for another knife.

Steve fired a round from his weapon before he had a chance to pluck the knife from the wall and the chef dropped to the floor, swearing with words Danny didn't understand and didn't care to learn. He didn't waste another moment following Steve into the corridor, hastily slamming the door closed behind him.

"Take that door," he gestured with the skillet and Steve slammed the door open and moved through. Danny followed and three details hit him at once: brisk salty air slammed into him with a fast wind that stirred his hair and nearly sent him reeling in its unexpectedness. He'd spent far too long locked up inside. Second, there was a helicopter, just as promised, hovering over the poorly lit pad and trying to land in spite of the shifting horizon of the ship on waves that had been increasing in size over the course of the afternoon. Third, there were people at the edges of the helipad shooting at the helicopter. Considering the size of the bird Marcel's cremen had crap aim, but clearly their attack couldn't continue. Especially not when he saw that the side door on the chopper was open and Chin was sitting in the chair, calmly taking aim with a massive gun and picking off the people who were trying to shoot them dead.

Steve was already splaying bullets at those closest to him and Danny didn't waste time fretting about whether or not the men he hit were killed or simply maimed. Danny might be exhausted and feeling weak beyond reason but he charged into the fray and swung his frying pan at the back of the closest guys head. The gunman went down like a stone. Danny crouched low above him, dropping his culinary weapon and taking up the man's gun instead. It wasn't a model he'd ever fired before, but the basics were all the same and he looked up to find his next target. He wanted _off this damn boat_, and now the lives of his friends were in immediate danger; there was no way in hell he wasn't going to use whatever violence necessary to protect them. He'd deal with the personal consequences later, as they all would.

A warning prickle on the back of his neck had him looking over to his left and he startled when he met Marcel's furious gaze focused right on him. Then Marcel turned and trained his weapon on Steve, his focus absolute, and Danny swung his gun around, intent on stopping him once and for all.

He didn't get a chance to squeeze the trigger.

The sharp pain that bit into his side was so much louder than his other aches and so surprising that Danny actually stopped in his tracks, puzzled. He looked down, dropping his arms and letting the gun clatter to the deck as it was suddenly too heavy to hold onto any longer. At first glance he didn't know what to think of the stickiness that was soaking his stylish button-up and beginning to slide warmly down his leg.

Marcel had never given Danny anything to wear that wasn't black, so Danny wasn't sure what the liquid was until he pressed his fingers into it and pulled them away. They were covered in crimson. Blood. Shit, he'd been shot. He'd been shot?

He staggered as the sound that had muted only moments before roared back to life and he dropped to his knees. He tried pressing his hands to the wound to stop the blood from leaking so heavily and gasping when the lightest touch brought fire to his entire body. Jesus, is this what Steve had felt when he'd been shot?

Steve.

Danny looked up to see Steve had moved further down the chopper pad, pretty much all of the visible hostiles were down except the guy who had shot Danny. And the _woman_ that Danny detested so much coming up behind Steve. Danny couldn't warn him with a yell even if he had the energy, the helicopters rotors overpowering even the sharp bark of gunshots. The guy who shot Danny was baring down on him, weapon aimed and victory on his face as he came to stand only a few feet away. Danny prepared for it all to end, it was happening so quickly he didn't even know how he felt beyond deep resignation.

The sudden look of surprise on the gunman's face, followed closely by the massive red flower blooming over the thin white sweatshirt had Danny blinking in weary confusion. The man crumpled wordlessly to the ground and behind him Marcel towered, his eyes dark with a new fury Danny hadn't witnessed on him yet. It was tinged with that bit of crazy that had always made Danny nervous when in its presence. He looked down at Danny, his weapon trained on him now and Danny wished he had the strength to pick up the gun sitting uselessly by his bum knee. He wished he wasn't at a sudden loss for words. Apparently that wasn't much of an issue though, as Marcel had never had a problem in that area and wasn't about to start now.

"Nobody decides on your fate but me," he yelled over the din of the helicopter that had finally landed safely across the pad. Marcel jerked his weapon down and plugged another bullet in the already dead gunman, and man that he had hired and no doubt ordered to do exactly what he had just killed him for. It was a pretty hefty cost. Danny felt a little numb looking between the corpse and Marcel. "If you're not going to be mine than you're not going to be anybody's, you understand _Mr_. Williams?" Danny blinked at him.

That was when Chin appeared in the drizzling rain like a wrathful warrior angel and smashed the butt end of his rifle over Marcel's head. Marcel's eyes rolled to white and he nearly landed on top of Danny as he fell to the deck. Danny blinked between the limp body of the soulless bastard and up at Chin who's furious anger fell away to deep concern.

"Hey, Danny." Between one blink and the next Chin was on his knees by his side and Danny had never been so grateful to see his friend all decked out in his jeans and Kevlar with a holster strapped to his thigh and rifle gripped securely in one hand. Fucking badass.

"I could kiss you," Danny tried to tell him, unsure if Chin could hear him over the din. Chin didn't acknowledge the words, but that could be because the man was all about not wasting words and such. Words were expensive for Chin Ho Kelly, especially when they could cost him so much.

"Want to get out of here?" Okay, so maybe the guy could waste words, but he sure wasn't' wasting time as he was already looping Danny's arm over his shoulders and hoisting him to his feet without waiting a beat.

Danny couldn't scream from the pain because the air had already been sucked from his body. He nearly blacked out as he was dragged across the hard hard hard ground to the helicopter, doing his best to help but his feet kept getting in the way. Then Kono was there, her small hands and unsurprisingly strong arms helping to haul him into the backseats of the chopper.

That last stretch was it for him, the pain too overwhelming, the sounds too loud and the sights too dark. When he gave into the black he didn't even see it coming.

-H5O-

The heavy wind from the choppers downwash was whipping his hair and clothes in all directions. It was a familiar sensation for him and he barely cast it a thought as he moved onto the helicopter pad and began taking out the men armed with a variety of large weapons who were shooting at the chopper. Chin was seated securely, his eyes protected by safety glasses that did not obscure his severe concentration, and he picked off a gunman somewhere off to his side. Through the open chopper doors he could just see Kono's rigid back as she leaned out the other side of the bird, a large rifle pulled up to her own shoulder as she hunted for targets. God he loved his team, even as he felt guilty for placing them in this position in the first place his pride reared hot and heavy in his chest.

The pilot's teeth flashed in a grin as he jerked his head around in the cockpit, trying to keep his eye on everything at once. Steve didn't know who the hell he was, though it was hard to make out distinguishing features under the helmet and headset, but he would worry about whether or not the man was certifiable later, once they were all safe.

He tossed a quick look at Danny, watching as he cold cocked a guy with his confiscated frying pan, and turned back to his own battle with a slight curl to his lips. Danny and his spontaneous weapons of choice; Steve would never grow tired of seeing how the guy would improvise next.

The rain was beginning to come down now, mingling with the wind off the Pacific and the helicopters rotors; it would soon begin to affect his vision. There weren't many people left standing on the heli-pad, no doubt van Hoorn's crew compliment wasn't much larger than fifteen strong, but there were still too many hostiles for Steve's peace of mind.

He spotted two men trying to scramble up the stairs onto the platform across the way. The chopper's skids were touching down and Chin and Kono were already leaping from their perches. Chin with his gun up and ready like he had been born with it attached to his limbs and Kono heaving out the other side and dragging two large and very heavy looking gas cans with her.

Steve stepped wide and took a shot at the men, knowing his angle wasn't decent enough for a guaranteed hit but it did the job as the bullets pinged close enough that they went scrambling back the way they had come. They popped up again and Steve took another shot. This time when they left he didn't think they'd be back so quickly but he would need to keep an eye out for them.

There was a momentary lull in the shooting now that Steve wasn't actively taking out targets, but it was broken by a solitary crack barking over the whirring engines of the chopper. A feeling of dread washed over him and he turned, intent on finding out who that bullet had been intended for and if it had hit its mark. He barely managed half a twist when a boot lashed out right in his path, taking him by complete surprise as it connected solidly with his outstretched wrist. His weapon went flying and his pinky finger snapped unforgivingly from the impact.

He pivoted back on his heel, throwing his arm up just in time to block a roundhouse kick intended for his head and he found himself face to face with _her_. Her brown eyes flashed dangerously, her lips pressed together and hair pulled back in a hasty ponytail. Sometime between the room where she had rushed in to fetch Marcel and now she had lost her tailored blazer and adorned a clearly custom made, form-fitting Kevlar vest. With a few loose strands of hair framing her beautiful face and the relaxed but nimble way she held herself she was a sight to behold.

Steve grinned. He was looking forward to putting her down like the female dog she was.

She took a step back, giving herself more room to maneuver, and rolled her shoulders, her eyes never leaving his and they danced around each other a moment, a step here, a step there, gaining an understanding of how the other worked. He'd known she was dangerous just from the way she walked, but now it was clear that she had training that probably matched his own, and she looked like she really wanted to use it; or else he suspected she would have just shot him in the back and been done with it. Stupid.

A moment later he was proven right as she attacked with such accurate ferocity that he was forced back a few steps, trying to play catch up to her snake like speed. She caught him once in the face but he stepped back in time to avoid a knuckle drive to his throat. She switched up and aimed a roundhouse for his solar plexus so quickly he had no choice but to step into it, taking the blow that was as heavy as any of the men he'd ever fought with so that he could wrap his arm around hers while it was outstretched. He locked it tight under his armpit and drove his elbow up and into her cheek.

She grunted, her head snapping to the side before she brought her face around to glare at him, her nose gushing red and he felt a wild satisfaction at the sight. He'd seen the way she had watched Danny when they'd been in the room together, like a housewife eyeing the neighbor's dog that came over to piss on her lawn. Like he was a misbehaving pet that took Marcel's attention away from her. Jealousy was not a good look on her and it was even uglier when she was part of the reason Danny had been tortured here in the first place.

Steve did not go easy on her when he threw a fist into her gut, and then a third into her face. He didn't go easy on her because she was more than capable of taking him down if he gave her a chance and he was done playing. He wanted to snap her arm.

She shifted to the side, an ugly sneer on her lips a moment before she head-butted him right on the nose. It wasn't enough to daze but it made his eyes tear up and his vision blur, which was why he didn't see her boot clad_ foot_ kick up behind and over her shoulder until it was already smashing into his cheek, her chest pressing into his as she had to arch her back to swing her leg high enough.

The sheer surprise of the flexible move loosened his grip on her arm enough that she slipped her own arm free and she used the distraction to twist and carry her momentum into driving her elbow hard and deep into his chest. The bone he had thought was fractured earlier snapped under the force of the blow and he stumbled back briefly, shoving the white hot pain away to be dealt with later and side stepping just in time to avoid a driving side kick from her apparently double jointed hips. Having expected her kick to connect she lost her balance briefly, needing to drop the leg to the ground. He used the fault to full advantage, skipping past her and twisting, throwing an elbow of his own out to connect with the back of her head.

His vision cleared, he could taste blood on his lips mingling with the salty ocean spray and rain that was coming down harder now, it's icy cold fingers soaking him to the bone. Just beyond him he caught a glimpse of Chin dragging Danny to the landed chopper, its blades still whirring energetically overhead. His gut clenched at the sight but he couldn't get to them until she was dealt with. He twisted back, intent on finishing her off, dropping his left arm to protect his broken rib. She straightened up and faced him, no longer nearly as beautiful covered in blood and water and gripping a boot knife in her hand, loose and ready.

No problem. He'd figured out her style now and he wouldn't be underestimating her speed again. He was about to attack her when his body prickled in warning, his gut flooding with urgency. He slanted his head to the side, keeping her in his sights while trying to check behind and he just caught a blur of movement out of the corner of his eye. He didn't think, just reacted, throwing his entire body back in an ungraceful twist and lean that pulled agonizingly at his broken bone. He felt a sharp sting across his bicep as a large knife blew by him, right where his back had been only a second before.

He dropped down, bracing to lunge in any direction the moment he separated the new threat from the old and determined how to respond. It didn't take long to realize he didn't have to worry about either. To his right the Chef they had come across in the kitchen was stumbling away through the towers door he'd just popped through, a look of sick fear on his ashen face as he glanced beyond Steve to where the woman was standing. Her own face was slack in shock, her eyes staring down at the massive carving knife sticking out of her chest, blood already frothing from her mouth.

It felt like a hollow victory as her eyes began to glaze and she slowly fell on her back, her head twisting side to side and body thrashing in a death throe as he watched coldly. She wasn't gone yet but his attention was quickly diverted as he searched the area for further threat, his awareness honing in on his teammates as they began to haul Danny bodily into the chopper. Movement from the cockpit drew his gaze and he saw the pilot twisting frantically, trying to yell out a warning to his team and pointing beyond Kono. Caught up in the task of helping bend Danny's legs into the bird neither her or Chin saw the last of Danny's honour guard approaching. Will. His arm was lifting and gun swinging around to aim at Kono's unprotected back.

Steve lunged forward, bending down and wrapping his hand around the carving knifes hilt. When he ripped it from the woman's chest it gave with a disgusting squelch. It was enough to push her into unconsciousness if she wasn't already dead. He didn't care. He flipped the blade in his hand, gripping the blood slick tip between his fingers, hauled his arm back, and let it fly.

It slammed into the man's back, digging in deep just below his shoulder blade as he pulled the trigger. The bullet sailed uselessly into the night sky as his body jerked. He arched as Kono and Chin whirled around, raising their weapons, Chin's hand streaked in slippery red, to watch as Will fell to the ground. Dead.

Close. It was too close. Steve pushed to his feet and finally ran towards them.

"Get on the chopper! Let's go Let's go!" He hollered and they obeyed immediately, Chin swinging up first and Kono following close on his heels, twisting around with her rifle up and braced to provide cover fire the moment she was through the door. Steve wrapped his fingers around the door frame to haul himself up, catching sight of Danny sitting half sprawled on the seat with Chin on his other side pulling him further in and checking him over.

"This isn't over!" Steve nearly didn't hear the words, nearly being the magic word. He froze and turned, spying Marcel standing just beyond the helicopters range, his expensive clothing in disarray and weighted down by the rain and blood dripping down his neck from where Chin had hit him. He had a gun in his hand, held calmly down by his hip and he was watching Steve intently. Once he saw that he had Steve's full attention the right side of his mouth curled up. "This will never be over." Steve had to read his lips this time, but the point was made. He stepped away from the chopper.

"Boss!" Kono called after him and he looked back, finding Chin looking over her shoulder.

"Keep him safe!" He yelled back. Kono looked worried and adjusted her stance, eyes shifting to keep a loot out for anymore hostiles. Chin looked past Steve to Marcel, and then leaned forward, handing over the gun from his leg holster and with a calm nod of his head went back to Danny.

Steve stepped away from the door, he mimicked Marcels' pose, holding the weapon by his side with his finger gently caressing the trigger as he moved swiftly to meet the enemy. The man had the presence of mind to step back until his path was blocked by the railing that prevented people from falling overboard. Steve stopped ten feet away, blinking the water from his eyes. Marcel lost his knowing grin, shifting on his feet and glaring with the superior air that he favoured.

"You think you can just take him?" He yelled over the din, indicating Danny and the helicopter with his chin. "Do you really think you'll be able to hold on to him? You're soft McGarrett, you don't have what it takes to keep him, to use what he has to offer," his sneer was ugly and hate filled, his eyes drifting occasionally to where Danny was now hidden from him by metal and glass and Kono's massive rifle.

Steve watched him darkly, teeth clenched tight and knowing his contempt, his outright disgust, must have been clear for Marcel to see on his face even if the guy was unbothered by it.

"_I_ know what it takes," he sneered, dark eyes staring hard at Steve. Marcel believed himself to look threatening standing there with his weapon and squared shoulders. He was used to having his own way with the snap of his fingers and a cutting remark. Guys like him were all the same: egotistical bullies with kingly complexes and the temperament of a cranky five year old at bed time. The only difference between him and any other gang leader was that he had millions of dollars behind his name and a shipping company in his pocket that had been handed over by daddy dearest.

He was no threat to Steve.

He was a threat to Danny.

The wind from the chopper was pelting the rain at his back, it was beginning to sting through his clothing and hurt his neck, tiny little needles slashing into him. He kept watching Marcel, waiting for him to make the final move.

"With _him, _with whatever the hell it is that makes it possible for him to _heal with a touch!_ I could make enough money to buy out Bill Gates and have the immortality to enjoy it forever!" His snide grin was back as he looked Steve up and down, shaking his head. "You can have him for now," he oh so graciously allowed and took a step towards Steve. "But I know _who _he is. _I_ know what he looks like and I _will_ find him, no matter where he goes, where you take him" he bared his teeth at Steve. "He belongs to me."

Steve clenched his jaw and kept silent. He had nothing to say that Marcel would understand.

"Go!" Marcel jabbed his empty hand at the helicopter. "Fix him up and then ask him how long he'll be willing to run and hide. Ask him how long he thinks he can keep his Jersey family safe. Ask him how he can keep his daughter safe if he's too busy cowering from me-"

Marcel's true downfall was his apparent inability to understand how far Steve was willing to go to protect Danny and his family.

Steve's arm snapped up the moment the man uttered daughter. Bang Bang Bang. Three bullets as close to the heart as he could manage. Marcel was dead before he could sing another threat to Danny and his little girl. The body slumped backwards against the railing and Steve, as calm and efficient as he had been trained to be, didn't hesitate to step forward and help Marcel's carcass slip over the metals edge and plunge into the unforgiving waters below.

Steve didn't bother to watch him fall.

Tbc.

Whew.


	18. Scaling Mauna Kea

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: Scaling Mauna Kea (and making it down the other side)

-H5O-

When he finally hopped into the helicopter he caught the tail end of Kono's effort to contort her body into the front seat beside the pilot. Chin had a pair of headphones ready and as soon as Steve slammed the door shut he dragged them over his ears.

"Let's go!" he repeated the order from earlier but the pilot was clearly on the ball as the chopper was already lifting swiftly from the ships swaying platform and into the stormy sky. Steve wasn't interested in his flying skills though, turning to assess the damage to Danny only to come up short when he found his friend awake and watching him.

His eyes were shiny from the shock and pain and Chin had managed to wrap an emergency blanket over his legs but it didn't look good. Danny's skin was almost translucent he was so pale and sweat was mingling with the rain on his brow. He had a set of headphones over his own ears and he was making an obvious effort to appear alert and, in typical Danny form, irritated. Steve swallowed thickly, his nerves finally emerging now that he didn't have to be a soldier anymore.

Danny was propped up against the far door, his legs stretched across the seat and Chin crouched in the small space on the floor beside him, his still gloved hand pressing firmly into a blood soaked gauzy mass on Dany's side. Steve was silent, but this time it was because he didn't know where to start as opposed to not wanting to waste his breath.

Danny was having none of that.

"He gone?" He asked through the headset, his voice raspy in the speakers. Steve nodded affirmative, holding his friend's sharp blue gaze until he saw the understanding dawn that Marcel wouldn't be back to bother him ever again. He knew Danny got the message when he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the window, swallowing thickly.

"Hey, Danny?" Steve reached forward and shook his shoulder gently. Danny's eyes snapped open with a glare.

"Trying to sleep here," he mumbled and Steve forced a smile on his lips even if it was the last thing he felt like doing, and shrugged his shoulders.

"Not my fault you couldn't avoid getting shot. Is it really that hard for you to duck and cover? You're already so close to the ground," the dig came out weaker than intended but it got the glazed eyes sparking heatedly at him. Chin frowned by Danny's shoulder and shook his head at Steve. Steve understood that he wasn't chastising him for the joke but trying to tell him that Danny was not in good shape. He didn't need to be told that.

"I can not _believe_," Danny shifted, grimaced, and doubled the intensity of his rather pathetic glare at Steve, "that you waited until now to break out your first short joke. You must have been saving that one forever," his eyes started to drift shut again.

"Only since I met you, but it wasn't really appropriate the first time I got you shot," Steve never would have heard the end of it if he'd even _breathed_ the concept of that joke in Danny's direction that day. He'd been saving it up for a time when he really needed to keep Danny going.

"So you admit to getting me shot," Danny grinned victoriously, but it didn't last and they all knew that Steve had admitted, apologized and bought the tickets to the dolphin hotel to make up for it ages ago. Water under the bridge. "This time doesn't count," Danny added softer and Steve almost couldn't meet the sincere gaze when Danny looked back at him, forgiveness and self-deprecation in his eyes. "This time I'm definitely-" he paused to take a couple of sharp breaths, trying and failing to control the pain and pushing passed it because he had no other choice. "-Definitely the one to blame here."

"Not your fault," Steve instantly denied.

"Could have told you about the healing thing, wanted to," Danny's eyes drooped half closed and Chin was looking more and more worried by his side. "Wanted to tell everyone…Rachel-" he trailed off with a rasp. Steve didn't need to be a doctor to know that Danny wouldn't make it to a hospital in time, not with four hours of flight time ahead.

"I know why you didn't," Steve didn't know what else he could do so he just kept holding onto Danny's shoulder in support. "It's all good babe." Danny snorted a laugh and then curled in a little, keening and stilling for a long moment until the pain ebbed slightly. "Listen Danny, I need you to do something for me here," Steve shifted and leaned further over Danny in the cramped space, tapping his cheek lightly to get his attention and Danny peeled his lids apart enough to glower weakly. "You're not going to like it," he warned.

"Story of – my life," he squeezed out between breaths. Yeah. Steve braced himself for rejection.

"I need you to use that special mojo you got going on and fix yourself, okay brah?" He wasn't surprised when Danny's rejection came in the form of not even acknowledging that he'd heard Steve.

He gave Danny a moment to mull it over and then squeezed his shoulder.

"Danny, I'm not kidding around here. You take whatever energy it is you need from me and you fix this!" he put some snap into the words, letting his desperation leak through and that got Danny's attention. He rolled his eyes open but instead of seeing defiance there was that fear Danny had shown in short glimpses while under Marcel's care. There was nothing fake or insignificant about the pleading on his face as he looked at Steve now.

"Not gonna do that Steven," he gasped out and then curled a hand around Steve's forearm, squeezing hard through a jolt of pain, his dull nails digging crescents into his skin.

"You have to Danny."

"Don't have to do anything," he argued back fiercely, his voice cracking.

"Sorry Danno," Steve stated softly but firmly, "but this time you do. You _have_ to fix it or you're not going to make it back to the islands." Danny looked away, his head turning so that he was facing Chin's chest and he stared fixedly at the pockets there. "God Damn it, Danno! You listen to me and _take what you need_! Now! Before you're too weak to do anything to help yourself!"

"It's not that easy!" Danny snapped desperately, his struggle to remain aware evident in every straining line in his body and it was killing Steve to watch this, to have to be the bad guy in this when it shouldn't even be an issue.

"It is that easy!" Steve snapped right back, desperate and unwilling to compromise.

"I could kill you!" Danny whispered, his eyes drifting closed again, his head lolling to the side and this time it took Chin sharply barking his name to wake him up. Steve was too busy processing what Danny could mean and coming up with so many wild scenarios involving childhood disasters and dead parents and foster care that it was bordering on ridiculous, but there was one thing he knew without a doubt.

He grabbed his friend's face in both his hands, ignoring a gut churning dip as the chopper hit a patch of rough wind, and forced him to meet his eyes. "I don't care! It's a chance I am willing to take!" Then he pulled out the big guns. "Grace needs you."

"You… you son-of-a-bitch," Danny snarled, sounding like he had swallowed ground glass as he forced the words out, his eyes losing focus. Steve could see the affect his words had on his partner, it would be impossible to miss, and hated himself just a little for what he was about to say.

"Grace told me you left us because she gave away your secret, Danny, and it was _ripping her apart_. She'll never believe that isn't the truth unless you come back to her and she'll never forgive me if I come back without you. I don't think I could live with that Danno, you hear me? I can not deal with your little girl hating me for the rest of my life and thinking that it was _her_ fault you're dead!" He felt Danny's adams apple bob beside his fingers and didn't dare look away as Danny's pained and conflicted gaze warped into deep anguish.

"Too much-" he muttered, tears beginning to gather in the corner of his eyes as he willed the pain and fear away. Steve had to fight for his own control, not knowing how else to put Danny at ease.

"Then take a little from all of us," Chin's smooth voice cut in, soothing and confident and providing a solution so obvious that Steve could have smacked himself for not seeing it from the very beginning. Danny, for his part, looked wild-eyed and unsure and Chin pressed on without waiting a beat, keeping continuous pressure on the wound. "We can watch out for each other, stop you if you begin taking too much. Keep it in the 'ohana brah, we've got you covered." Danny blinked at Chin and Steve could see Kono's own agreement in the way she was hanging over the back of her seat, getting as close to them as she could from the front without interfering with the pilot. The pilot was as silent as a tomb.

"I don't-" Danny floundered and Steve dropped his hands from his face to rest one on his chest, careful of the broken finger, and twisted the other in Danny's grip so that their hands were clasped tightly.

"Do it Danno," he ordered softly around the lump in his throat. "Don't make us go home without you."

Danny tried to glare at him fiercely once more, not happy in the slightest, and then is eyes softened in a mix of fear and gratitude. The sudden onslaught of fatigue was immediate and foreign and calmed the deep worry clawing in Steve's chest. He couldn't help the soft, amazed smile even as he watched Danny's face relax slightly.

"Thank you," he whispered to his friend when Danny suddenly released him from his shaking grip and Kono's own gloveless hand was insistently pushing between them to take Danny's in a firm grasp. She wasn't giving him a chance to say he'd had enough. Danny's response was to close his eyes and press back the moisture in the that had been threatening to fall.

-H5O-

When they landed the sun was barely peaking over the horizon, the world cast in darkness with streaks of gold and pink infiltrating wherever it could reach.

Danny hopped out of the chopper and with the five of them working together they had the bird back in the hangar bay under hidden lock and key before the morning light really began stretching her fingers. Moko had been hard pressed to hide his grin, the adrenalin of the firefight still singing through his veins and he waved off any concern for damage to his bird, including the blood stains on the upholstery.

"Forgot how much I missed the action," he grinned with an energy none of them had, and shook their hands, clamping the cigar Kono slipped him between his teeth. "I can patch up a few bullet holes, throw a little bleach around and have her painted up in company colours by tomorrow night. Anyone reports a chopper's presence on that rig they'll never suspect me. We're good."

It was probably much more complicated than that, and if Danny gripped Moko's hand a little longer than necessary in gratitude none of his teammates commented on it, or the fact that he told the guy that he should lay off the cigars: they were bad for his health. Moko's grin softened, solemn reverence in his tone as he glanced at Danny's blood drenched shirt with the tiny, tiny little tear in it before meeting his eyes. "We're _good,_" he repeated, pumping Danny's hand again and then ordering them to get the hell off his property before some schmoozing employee showed up for their shift early.

Leaving the airfield under the cover of early morning had been almost ridiculously difficult. Danny was chomping at the bit to get home, weary and exhausted and aching to see his little girl. It couldn't work like that though; he couldn't just reappear out of thin air without any explanation as to where he'd been all this time.

Trying to explain an unsanctioned rescue mission on a foreign ship in the middle of the ocean, while enlisting an ex-navy-turned-_civilian_ pilot, would not fly with anyone. Add in the body count they'd left behind and it didn't matter how many illegal weapons they found in those crates: their careers would be over and a full investigation would commence. Jail time would probably be a given and it probably wouldn't be too difficult for an enthusiastic investigator to eventually discover why Danny was snatched in the first place.

So when they reached their cars, parked relatively close to the airstrip, Chin had quietly taken in the way Steve was hovering around Danny like a freakin' mutant mother hen and bypassed Steve entirely to hand the keys over to Danny. He rattled off an address, and left in their second vehicle with Kono peeling from the area like a bat out of hell. Danny mourned the thought of never being able to remove Steve's bad, bad influence from her young, impressionable mind and tossed around the idea of signing them both up for HPD's defensive driving recertification course. It would be easy enough to get Steve's signature on the paperwork, all he had to do was shove it in his face and say it was an order form for something explosive.

Steve gave him a sour look, like he somehow knew exactly what Danny was contemplating. He also looked ready to snatch the keys right out of Danny's hand, protest visible in every line of his exhausted, sagging face as he stepped forward and Danny leveled him with a glare that promised evisceration by toothpick if he even thought Danny would let him drive. He backed off quickly, unable to hide a slight limp as he rounded to the passenger side of the vehicle and quietly climbed in.

Steve proceeded to sit rigidly in his seat, eyes scanning their surroundings as Danny steered them through the back streets. The silence wasn't awkward but it reeked of things unsaid and eventually it began to make Danny twitchy even though he felt at ease. Things were good, they were fine. He was back on the island, on solid ground, driving an ugly ass car he'd never seen before with the promise of Gracie, malasadas and a years worth of sleep in his own bed. It couldn't be better.

It took every scrap of self-restraint that he had to not turn the car around and go speeding off to see his little girl. Distraction. He needed distraction.

"Who the hell just has a supply of cyanide on hand for their nefarious deeds anyway?" it came out as more question than derision and Steve broke his staring contest with the outside world long enough to glance Danny's way and shrug tiredly. Yeah, that about summed it up. There were a thousand and one thoughts cartwheeling through his head and he didn't know how to say any of them save the most obvious and, subsequently, the most painful ones. Maybe verbal distraction wasn't the best mode of attack just then and he doubled his focus on the nearly empty roads.

The next time he broke the silence it was with the gentle closing of his car door after he'd pulled into the parking lot of one rundown building in a long line of them.

"What a shithole," he muttered when Steve joined him at his side, reluctance and unease making his entire body practically vibrate as he stared at the single story, concrete block masquerading as architecture.

"Danny-" Steve started, his voice croaking a bit and Danny immediately waved a placating hand at him, trying for unconcerned, cutting his partner off before he could get started.

"Let's get this over with, huh? You promised an unlimited beer supply waiting at Casa McGarrett that I fully intend on getting up close and personal with as soon as humanely possible." He clapped Steve lightly on the shoulder, fully aware of the injuries the guy still sported, before forcing his feet to move towards the building one heavy step at a time. The unmistakable sound of latex gloves snapping into place followed him and he withheld any sarcastic comments as Steve neatly stepped passed him, limp and all, to open the door with his covered hands.

They both took deep, unhappy breaths before passing through and picking their way around a few scattered chairs and a large vacant desk before getting to the heavy set black door in the back. This time when Steve opened it Danny couldn't hide his unhappiness as they stepped into the tiny, windowless room. He nearly flinched when Steve flipped the lightswitch and the weak glare from the bare bulb overhead illuminated the space.

"It's almost as big as my place," Danny joked weakly, looking away from the dirty mattress and exposed toilet to the neat pile of canned goods stacked along one wall. On the other side of the room was a large, less ordered pile of empty cans and crushed bottles of water. "Remind me to never piss off a man as tenacious and thorough as Chin Ho Kelly," Danny ordered as he took the scene in. It looked like someone had been parked there for a month.

"Two hours Danno," Steve promised in response, gripping his shoulder in support and Danny sighed, dropping the bag of clothes he'd been carrying and stripping the high end noir cloth Marcel had so graciously provided off. One sacrificed water bottle and Steve's shirt (which Steve had peeled off without provocation and handed to Danny to use as an impromptu wash cloth like it was the most logical course of action in the world) and Danny was blood free and dressed in ripe smelling clothes that he would be burning very, very soon. He really did not want to know where Chin had found them, that was a secret he would happily go to his grave never hearing.

Steve took the repacked bag of soiled clothes in hand and turned those soulful, freakin puppy dog eyes on Danny like he was the one being left behind.

"Stop with the look," Danny groaned, his stomach suddenly flipping uncomfortably and he paced back and forth a moment to hide the discomfort. Steve, for maybe the first time ever, ignored their game and just kept watching Danny with concern. Danny's not so calm temper tried to break to the surface and he forced it back with deep breaths and then shook his head. "Idiot," he moved over to Steve and reached out. When Steve took a step out of reach and his concerned look turned to angry in a moment Danny was more inclined to roll his eyes at him than get upset. After year of practically living in each other's pockets he was fluent enough in 'Steve' to know he was just having a moronic moment. Especially after the night they'd just had.

"Don't do that Danny," Steve glared, "you're still not a hundred percent." Yep: moronic.

"Just shut up and put up McGarrett. We don't have time to have a pow-wow over your delicate sensibilities and, frankly, you're not much better than the walking dead right now. That might be slightly suspicious to our fellow law enforcement officers seeing as the last time you were at work you probably weren't broken."

"I'm not willing to compromise your health-" Danny shoved him against the concrete wall, maybe gripped his shoulders a little harder than necessary when Steve flinched at the contact, and healed him. Broken bones and bruises and cuts and all. When he was done Danny stepped back, slightly dizzy. So maybe he wasn't a hundred percent still, Steve didn't have to know that and, surprisingly, Danny didn't feel nearly as drained as he remembered normally feeling after fixing bones. Maybe practice was making it easier. Maybe he'd worry about it later.

"Feel better now?" Steve pushed him away a little but kept a hand on his elbow until Danny gently shrugged him off.

"No," Danny growled and looked around the miserable little room come cell. "Would you just go already? Please?" He asked softer. "I want to go home and the longer this takes..." he could probably sound more pathetic but it would be a difficult expectation to live up to. The frustrated huff Steve gave pretty much told Danny the man would be happier tossing this plan to the sharks and hauling ass out of there with Danny in tow. Instead he nodded and moved stiffly to the thick metal door.

"Two hours, I promise," he looked balefully at him from the other side of the threshold.

"Go put a freaking shirt on you exhibitionist."

Watching the heavy door close and hearing a chain and lock rattle into place was nearly enough to make him lose his cool and rush the damn thing. He wanted to kick and scream and demand to be let out but he knew, without a doubt, that Steve was waiting quietly on the other side for exactly that excuse to come charging right back in and check that Danny was okay all over again. Then it would take a natural disaster to get rid of him. Instead Danny walked on suddenly shaky legs to the mattress and sank down on it. The dirt didn't matter at this point because his 'new' clothes were pretty much on par in the filth department.

The low level nausea that had been acting up since he landed suddenly demanded to be noticed and he bit back a groan of discomfort. He'd take nausea over a bullet any day, but it still sucked the big one.

He leaned back against the wall, watched the door, and waited.

-H5O-

Steve got the call exactly one hour and seventeen minutes after he stepped through his front door. He hadn't done anything but clean himself up and sit silently at the edge of the couch watching an untouched glass of water on his coffee table. At nearly seven in the morning he was usually awake so he didn't bother to pretend he was asleep, answering the phone promptly.

Dispatch informed him that an anonymous tip had been called in moments before with the possible location of one missing Detective Daniel Williams. Units had already been dispatched to the given address.

He called Chin to relay the information as he was jumping in the Camaro and speeding off to Danny but making sure he was careful. He did not need to fall asleep at the wheel.

The area where the run down, abandoned building sat was transformed from a mere two hours before. No less than nine cruisers, an ambulance and a fire truck had responded to the possible rescue of a fellow officer. Steve was jumping out of his car before it had fully shifted into park, ready to storm the building guns a blazing despite the fact that he knew exactly what he'd find beyond the doors. The deep guilt at being the one to lock Danny up this time was ignored only because of the necessity of the act.

He detoured when an officer he'd been speeding by stopped him and, with a grin, announced that Danny was just fine and that the medics were checking him over by the ambulance. Steve did not sag in relief, but it was a damn near thing. He spotted Chin and Kono across the lot and Kono gave him such a sunny smile that a cop whom had been passing by her nearly tripped over his feet as he stared.

"-lucky we found him when we did; he would have been out of clean water in another week" a gruff older cop imparted gravely to his younger partner as Steve passed.

"…usually built like a brick house…"

"…tried to conserve his food…"

"…was already a small guy, couldn't afford to lose weight…"

"…pale as a coconuts guts…"

"…locked in there the whole time…"

"Poor son of a bitch…" he overheard as others went about their work around him. He careened around the fire truck, passing a group of hose jockeys leaning against the pumper's side compartments. They nodded respectfully and he returned it absently as he finally spotted Danny perched on a stretcher in the ambulance, looking wrung out and annoyed as one medic took his blood pressure while the other observed carefully.

Danny looked up as Steve nearly slammed into the back of the ambulance in his haste to get to him, looking him over to see if his partner had somehow managed to damage himself in the few hours he'd been out of Steve's sight.

"Danny," Steve cracked a small grin and just like that Danny's tired, bloodshot eyes sparked to life just in time for Chin and Kono's arrival.

"Steven," Danny returned softly "Chin, Kono." His entire posture sagged as he took them in, the relief that it was finally over clear for all to see but only for them to truly understand.

"You in one piece?" Steve tried to assess from the ground that Danny hadn't somehow managed to break himself a little more in Steve's two-hour absence. The image of his chest, mottled blue and purple with tiny red holes and gashes demanded to be remembered as Steve stared at him.

"I'm _fine,_" Danny waved off any concern. Steve had a feeling he'd have to watch out more for that casual self-disregard in the future. "Get me out of here?" It was nearly more plea than demand.

"Let's go." Danny was peeling off the medics pressure cuff before Steve had finished uttering the agreement.

"You can't just leave-" the young man argued, his disbelief clear. "You need to see a doctor after the stress-" Danny shut him up with look that would have sent some of Steve's SEAL buddies to the water. Mind you it could have been the combined glare of the entire five-o squad that shut the guy up, especially when his senior partner shook her head at him to let it go.

Kono wrapped Danny up in the hug she hadn't allowed herself to give earlier the moment his feet touched the asphalt, Chin stepping in to grip both their shoulders firmly and if it took Danny a fraction of a second longer than usual to respond Steve put it down to Danny being overwhelmed with the sheer amount of people around them at the moment. Steve could hear the forensics team lead already giving orders by the buildings front door.

"We'll take it from here," Steve told the senior medic who, while looking concerned, could do nothing but accept. After a long moment with Kono whispering something in Danny's ear that made him huff out a soft laugh, they broke apart.

Danny was even more washed out in the early morning sunlight than he had been under the florescent lighting on the ship.

"Gracie," Danny demanded, taking a step towards him and who was Steve to deny the guy any longer.

"Yeah." If he had to reach out twice to steady Danny's slightly shaky walk as he squinted, nearly blind, in the glaring morning sun neither of them commented on it as the rest of the force quietly watched their slow retreat.

-H5O-

Her heart started pounding the moment the gate buzzer had gone off and she'd seen the gleaming silver Camaro waiting beyond the wrought iron bars that separated the outside world from her home. For the last month it had been the same every single time Steven came around to the point where even delivery people calling up from the gate made her feel weak and dizzy with nerves.

Stan had taken to answering the calls when he was home these last few weeks, giving her soft looks of understanding despite the fact that it was her ex-husband she was so distraught over. He understood that life and death put other, more petty emotions in their place and she loved him all the more for his effort to help her and Grace through it. It helped that Stan had softened up to Daniel slightly since that fiasco with the housing commissioner all those months ago. But Stan had had to go to his office this morning for an important meeting so she was the one who responded to the buzzer. Without saying a word, simply opening the gate, she moved to stand on the elaborate interlocked driveway to await Commander McGarrett.

She took deep breaths, steadying herself. Preparing for the worst. Every time she prepared for the worst, it was part of the reason her marriage with Daniel hadn't worked out in the end; she hadn't been able to handle the fear that sat deep in her heart every time he had gone off to work. She had thought it might be easier with distance, with no longer being in one another's lives aside from their connection with Grace.

She had been wrong.

She had come to hate seeing Steven McGarrett pulling up to her home to update her and visit Grace. She hated the fact that he drove Daniel's car like it were his own. Hated the fact that he could calm her daughter when she was falling apart over her missing father when everything Rachel and Stan had to say just wasn't enough. She hated the fact, and she knew it was beyond petty, that Daniel had found somebody here, so far from everything he knew, that he could lean on and trust in a way that she had never been able to build with him. Not even his beloved adopted family had been able to inspire such unquestioning loyalty from Daniel. Nor herself. Be it because they were the type of men who understood each others drive to serve, or the fact that they were both lost souls just looking to belong somewhere, longing to have a family that would support them unconditionally, unfailingly, who understood loss and abandonment. After not much longer than a year she understood that this bond Danny and Steven had was more permanent than anything she had been able to build with the man she had married.

In her darker moments it made her seethe with anger.

In her better moments she was beyond relieved that the first love of her life had found somebody that wouldn't abandon him because things were too hard.

In the moments in between she just felt guilt and relief and nothing at all.

But seeing him drive up in Danny's car, watching him approach, nearly undid her every time.

It wasn't until the vehicle was halfway up the short drive that she realized there was more than one person in the front seats. She lay a hand on the column beside her to steady herself, just in case, and didn't realize she'd been holding her breath until the car stopped and the engine shut off. When the two doors opened in perfect synchronicity and she set her eyes on Daniel for the first time in far too long she nearly sobbed. It took every effort to stop herself from launching off the raised stone step and go to him: she wasn't sure if she wanted to hug him or slap him and as she took in his full appearance she wasn't sure he was ready to handle either.

"Daniel," she whispered and he approached, a tired but real smile on his too thin, too pale face, his hair was brushed back on his head but lacking the order he was usually so careful to maintain, and he had at least two days stubble shading his face.

"Rachel," he returned and stopped a few feet from her, Steven not too far behind with his dark, sharp eyes that were watching everything at once. She recognized this look, it was the one that said everything was still new and fresh and he wasn't ready to lie down and accept that everything was okay yet. Looking at Daniel now she wondered how close Steven had come to not successfully retrieving the father of her daughter. She decided she didn't really want to know.

"You look wretched," she managed, realizing that her hand had been drifting forward to touch him and she dropped it slowly, uncertain of what he had been through, if touching would even be okay. He answered her by stepping forward and taking her hand in his, his fingers as strong and warm as she remembered, but he didn't make any further move than that. She could accept it; she knew she didn't truly have the right to want more.

"As charming as ever," her smile was watery as he squeezed her hand once before gently letting go and looking beyond her to the door. "Has Grace gone to school yet?"

"No," she cleared her throat and pulled herself taller, soft smile still in place. "She's upstairs in her room, she wanted to change her outfit before I drove her in." She swallowed thickly once more and embarrassingly had to clear her throat again. Behind Daniel Steven's eyes softened in her direction. "I suppose I should call her teacher and let her know she won't be in for the rest of the week. When you're ready I'll have breakfast on the table," she stepped aside and, with a thankful nod of his head, Daniel swiftly moved by her and into the large house. Rachel and Steve followed and she paused at the base of the large staircase just as Danny reached the top and disappeared from sight.

She suddenly, briefly, wished her home weren't so large as she might have been able to remain closer to the reunion. Gracie's loud screech a moment later and a soft thump was all she heard before the door was practically slammed closed upstairs. Still she watched the top of the landing a moment longer before shaking off the feeling of exclusion and turning politely to the six feet of tall, exhausted looking man standing a polite distance behind her. She wasn't surprised to find him watching her quietly.

"Breakfast won't cook itself," she announced and led the way to the kitchen, pulling out her fine china cups and putting a pot on to boil for tea. He sat back and let her do her thing as she prepared a fruit salad, whisked eggs in a bowl and set a stack of fresh, whole wheat bread aside for when Daniel and her daughter came down from upstairs.

When she began pouring the tea her hands were shaking and Steve gently took the pot from her and finished the task. Even now she wanted to hate him, she just couldn't find the energy for resentment anymore. Mostly she was just ridiculously grateful.

"Where was he?" she asked softly, and he looked up from the delicate cup he was rhythmically turning on the saucer.

"Abandoned building on the west end. Belonged to an uncle's step-cousin of the two men that hijacked your car under Bruce Hoffman's orders. He was locked in a back room."

"All this time?" she asked through a shaky breath and he nodded, swallowing heavily and distracting himself by adding sugar to his drink. In all the times he had been here since Daniel had gone missing he had never added sugar to his tea.

"It was set up like a self contained prison," he elaborated for her. "He had food, water, a mattress and waste facilities but nothing else."

"Animals," she hissed and then had a horrible thought. "Did they do this because of the trial with Bruce Hoffman? Because of the situation with Stan?" And she couldn't help but feel immensely guilty when Steven gave a little half shrug. Daniel had told her everything had just been a misunderstanding after he had allowed them home after that entire fiasco. A lie. She wasn't surprised; she had always known Daniel kept things from her, important things about his work, about his childhood and his time in foster care before he had met Paul and been accepted into his family. She had always known, even before they got married, that he was keeping something profound from her, she had hoped he would eventually feel safe enough to share his deepest secrets with her. She had hated it then and she still felt the same now and she knew that his fears had a great deal to do with their union failing. It was hard to hold onto her anger though as Steve watched her with those assessing eyes.

"Hoffman hired the two men to take Danny out of the picture so he wouldn't be an issue when he came to trial. From what we can tell they took him that night we were at the club and locked him there, intending to go back later. We know for certain one of them is dead, his body found in the ocean weeks ago and we suspect the same of his brother."

In other words they'd never be certain why Danny had been locked up alone, for weeks, beyond the notion that they had intended to come back and finish the job later. Maybe they had been holding him for ransom, they were going to contact Rachel and Stan and demand money in return for his life after they had collected their assassin's fee from Hoffman. She nodded stiffly and moved off to start making toast, needing to do something so she didn't have to watch Steve watch her. It was a few long moments before she felt ready to speak without her voice wavering embarrassingly.

"You promised Grace that you'd bring him home," she faced him and he nodded slowly, hand tightening nearly imperceptibly around the cup. "I was furious with you when she told me that." Because what if he had been wrong. What if it had been a promise he couldn't keep and Grace's heart was broken by the false hope. What if her own heart had been broken when this man before her made promises that could have very well never come to fruition. Why had he been so willing to place himself in that position to take their anger if he failed?

"I know," he said without a hint of apology and she realized he would say the same things again if, god forbid, something like this would ever happen to Daniel a second time. He would say it and mean it just as strongly as he had the first time and it was because he believed it himself. Believed it enough to follow through in every way.

Something heavy and dark that had been clawing at her insides eased slightly, merely scratching now instead of raving to get out. She found herself blinking back tears again and pouring them both another cup of lukewarm tea before setting the kettle again.

"Thank you," she rested her hand on his forearm very briefly as she passed to sit on the kitchen islands seat beside him. He gave her that look again, the one that had taken her by surprise that time he had come to visit Grace in her purple playhouse and she had thanked him for coming. She thought she understood it better now, she understood that he didn't want to be thanked because there was no other course of action he could have contemplated taking. She had the sneaking suspicion that he would become very possessive of the people he claimed as family, of Danny. She had her suspicions confirmed a mere moment later when he responded in an unexpected way.

"Danny's going to be staying with me now," he watched her carefully absorb this new information.

"For how long?"

"Long."

"And he's aware of this new arrangement?" she asked and was almost amused when Steve let a quick, smug little grin loose before taking a gulp of his drink.

"He will be soon."

She waited a beat to see if he was willing to add anything else. She thought about it, thought about the tiny, run down little hole Danny had been residing in up until this point and refused to feel guilty at being the one who forced him into that situation in the first place. She knew between the divorce, the child support payments and the sheer cost that was living in Hawai'i he hadn't been able to get on his feet enough to afford better at the moment.

Commander McGarrett had a nice big home with plenty of living space and extra room for Grace to come and visit. Not to mention he had a home security system and 'stupid ninja skills' as Daniel had once informed her. If it meant the man was going to keep Daniel safer than he would be alone she could hardly begrudge that. Besides, Grace would be thrilled. She loved visiting Uncle Steve's.

"All right," she gave her consent, fully aware that Steve couldn't care less what she thought and would do what he felt was best with or without her support. It made her feel better though.

They spent the next two hours silently drinking tea and doing crosswords as Steve pretended not to be falling asleep where he sat before Daniel and Grace finally came downstairs. Their eyes were puffy and red and Grace was wrapped securely in her father's arms, babbling away about a school camping trip that was in the works a month from then. The smile that Daniel had given her when he had first arrived ages ago was five times as large now, his entire person relaxed and at ease and beside her Steve relaxed himself. _Finally._

She firmly pulled back on the bubbling jealousy.

"Breakfast?" she asked instead and Daniel looked a moment between her and his partner.

"Breakfast," he agreed, as assured as he ever was, and then went about preparing the food himself like it was his kitchen. She went to help but a light touch to her shoulder from Steve held her in place. She looked at him questioningly and he just shook his head and nodded to where father and daughter had everything well in hand.

She didn't like not being in control, and in that moment realized why Steve had held her back. _Let Daniel run the show for now_, his eyes pleaded. With a nod she settled back on the cushioned seat and spent the rest of the morning pretending that everything was perfectly fine.

If she fell apart in Stan's arms later that night the only two that would ever know of it was her and her husband.

-H5O-

"You're supposed to be taking me home, McGarrett," were the first words belligerently grumbled from Danny when he woke up in his beloved Camaro to find it parked in Steve's driveway. "To _my_ place specifically."

"You know how I feel about your old apartment," Steve frowned standing outside the opened passenger door and looking down at Danny like he couldn't understand why he was still in the car.

"Yes, and you know how I _don't care_ how you feel about my place of residence despite your unnatural, unreasonable, unfathomable hate of it."

"I hate it because it's a shithole." Steve was still frowning down at him, holding out a hand now like Danny needed help getting his tired bones out of the car or something. Danny smacked the hand away and remained firmly in the seat.

"Maybe," he was so damn tired, "but it's _my_ shithole with _my_ stuff and I would really, really like to be able to shower, change into my own clothes, and then sleep until I have to deal with the world again. Is that really too much to ask? Really?" He looked over to see Chin marching to Steve's front door, two huge grocery bags in hand and he gave them a quick once over before slipping inside. For some inexplicable reason that made Danny feel old.

"You deserve better than that," Steve announced unwaveringly and yeah, it was touching and all, but right now-

"The only thing I want to deserve is a shower and bed, in that order, no interruptions. Right at this moment Steven you are being a very big interruption. You are an interruption of cosmic proportions orbiting your very own universe." Steve had that pleased look on his face that told Danny that he knew exactly what he was and was proud of it.

"My shower has better water pressure," he stuck his hand out for Danny again and again Danny batted it away. "I also have a Jacuzzi." Jacuzzi. Danny's determination to get back to his admittedly crappy apartment with an admittedly small stand up shower that did nothing more than spit water at him dwindled a bit. He glared at Steve.

"Your clothes are here as well," Steve stuck his hand out again and this time Danny sighed, heartfelt and put upon but willing to concede defeat when it was a battle he could not win. He'd had a lot of practice at that lately. He shoved the dark thought away and grabbed Steve's hand, allowing him to haul him from the vehicle.

"Fine, you win. Just don't expect decent company is all I'm saying," because there were issues upon issues here that were in need of being dealt with and Danny didn't know where to start. He did know that fighting over something he would ultimately lose was a waste of his energy though.

The relief he felt as he began the not so long trek to Steve's front door wasn't unexpected: despite his claim at wanting to return home he really didn't feel up to being alone right now. The way Steve walked so close to him, their shoulders brushing every step, hinted that it might be mutual.

Chin looked up from where he had parked it on the couch, beer in hand and some surfing competition on in the background. Kono was curled up on the other end, her head pillowed on the cushioned armrest and bare feet digging into her cousin's thigh. Fast asleep. Chin looked ready to pass out right where they sat as well and Danny swallowed at the sudden onslaught of emotions that threatened at their being here for him. Chin raised his beer slightly before taking a drink and turning back to the television, giving Danny a chance to get a grip without an audience. Or a huge audience he corrected as Steve was still right by his side.

"Jacuzzi, hot as you can make it," he ordered to cover the ache behind his eyes, hands twitching at his sides and Steve pointed him up the stairs without a word.

"I'll go start running it," he announced as he stopped outside the guest room that had once been his childhood bedroom. Danny knew this because he had slept here more than a few times. "You're clothes are in there," he retreated so quickly Danny was left wondering if maybe his partner should put aside his career in law enforcement and become the next Houdini or something. Of course the moment he stepped into the room he understood the reason for the hasty disappearing act.

Coward.

"Steven!" he barked and it took longer than it should for the guy to reappear, looking nervous and determined, a combination that was not flattering on him. "What the hell is this?" he gestured at the room beyond the door, at all the boxes stacked up along the back wall, at _his_ sheets on the queen bed in the room, at the wide open closet door that had nice shirts and nice pants hanging from brand new looking hangars. _His_ clothes. He eyed the tall wooden dresser sitting pretty beside it and worried that he'd open it up to find his underwear lining the drawers.

"You're stuff," Steve gave him a look that said it should be obvious.

"I can see that it's my stuff, _Steven_" he practically growled, "I assumed some of my stuff would be here, as in a few changes of clothes in a small, easily manageable Gucci duffle. I'm not even really picky about the bag, make it plastic for all I care. I'm just curious as to why it looks like _all_ of my _stuff_ is here, in this room and not at, and here's the strange part, my apartment!"

"Your rent came due." Steve looked about the room with a satisfied gleam in his eye that he wisely hid when he looked back at Danny.

"My rent came due," Danny repeated.

"Yeah, a few days ago."

"A few days ago," he frowned up at Steve.

"Since you weren't around to pay up the landlord kicked you out," he tried to sound innocent but Danny wasn't buying it. Not for a second. The landlord wouldn't dare throw Danny out, not after he had ripped the guy a new one for entering his apartment without his express permission after only two months of being in the building. Guy was to too scared to even come near his front door now unless Danny needed something fixing and then he made sure he showed up well before the usual pre-requisite two-week waiting period.

"And you figured, seeing as I wasn't available to deal with it at the time, you would just move every single thing I owned over here." He nearly lost his ire completely when he spotted the picture of Gracie on the bedside table, right where he liked to keep it.

"Chin and Kono helped." Steve said innocently, no guilt at throwing his fellow culprits under the proverbial bus.

"And you somehow, in the "few days ago"," he was not embarrassed to use air quotes as he said this, "that this happened, managed to pack up allll my stuff and bring it here. I'm curious, did this happen while you were infiltrating the cargo ship of hell, or sometime during your apparently non-existent flight to LA?"

"Let's be honest here Danny, most of your stuff was still in boxes anyway."

"And what, you couldn't just front the money for the next month and let me pay you back?"

"Your landlord wasn't too keen on the idea. I don't think you made the best impression while you were there."

"I make nothing but best impressions. In fact I win merit awards for my ability to make best impressions, and then I earn merit awards for agreeing to work with people who's first impressions involve getting me shot and then breaking and entering into my home to steal and relocate all my belongings without permission."

"You're never letting that getting you shot thing go are you," Steve didn't sound nearly bothered enough about the idea. Normally Danny would state that Steve wasn't concerned for his safety enough in general, but things were too raw between them right now to make that usual line of banter anywhere near funny.

Jesus. Danny felt a wave of nausea attack him followed by the very distinct urge to smash his fist into something hard to distract himself from it.

"Danny?" Steve was watching him with that sharp, take no prisoners, frown and Danny waved him off.

"I'm fine," he turned back to look around the room, at all his things (which didn't amount to too much since the actual act of moving to Hawai'i in the first place was outrageously expensive). "How about that bath?" Steve pretty much leapt back to his own suite to check the water while Danny rummaged through the dresser drawers that, unsurprisingly, contained his clothes. All neatly folded and colour coded. Freak.

He didn't comment when he practically stumbled into Steve's bathroom to see the guy dumping a massive scoop of Epsom salts into the swirling water.

"No bubbles?" okay, maybe one comment to let the guy know he hadn't decided to disown him yet.

"They'll have to be self made."

"Classy. Go away now," he ordered and Steve left without a word, carefully closing the door behind him like he was afraid Danny would break at loud noises. Huh, deja vu. This time it didn't carry the gut wrenching sensation of emptiness it had that morning.

Turning the jets on full power and sinking into the hot water Danny finally let himself break, just a little. The swirling water absorbed the few soft sobs he let lose and he examined his chest, most of the teeny-tiny little scars hidden by the hair but the pain still sharp in his memory. The scar from the bullet was almost unnoticeable, the one on his hand a long thin line that he could have received years in the past. He hadn't seen any scars on Steve when he'd taken his shirt off that morning; then again he purposefully hadn't looked.

He let the water cool, empty and refilled it once while he was in there, very consciously not examining the nearly overwhelming urge to feel clean that had been crawling over his skin since he had first been forced to heal Marcel's brother.

He thought about Marcel, briefly, mostly focusing on the fact that he was dead. He thought about Steve nearly giving up everything for him, of Chin and Kono flying in on a fucking helicopter to save his ass like the world's most badass gun carrying guardian angels.

He thought about how they had so willingly ordered him to take from them to heal his own wounds. How much they had trusted him. He wasn't sure if they truly understood how vulnerable they had been, not really, despite their shaky smiles and Kono's decidedly scary demand that Danny fix his busted up knee while he was at it or she'd give him a matching set. He couldn't remember the last time he was this pain free.

He had difficulty wrapping his head around the lines his new family had crossed for him to get him back.

He was well aware that Marcel hadn't pulled a weapon on Steve when Steve had so efficiently ended his existence on that ship. He'd heard the gunshots, seen the darkness in Steve's eyes in the first few moments after he finally climbed into the chopper, before his concern for Danny had overshadowed it.

When he finally left the bathroom, dressed loosely in sweats and plain t-shirt, his fingers and toes so wrinkled he was almost worried about dehydration, he found Steve over by his bed diligently folding laundry.

"You know this new stalkerish thing you have going is not as endearing as you might think." Danny would never admit that it made him feel better to know the guy was close at hand, just in case. He swallowed thickly understanding that that was just one more issue that he was going to have to deal with.

"I'm just doing laundry Danno, there's no stalking here," he outright lied, far too focused on refolding a pair of cargo pants for what could have been the twentieth time.

"Uh huh." Danny was still feeling slightly chilled despite the heat of the day and the two baths he'd taken. "This whole moving me in to your home thing," he waved around to encompass the entire neighbourhood, "we talking just a few weeks here?"

"I was thinking we could knock down the wall in your room to the next one, create a little more space, paint it up in the shade of that blue tie you always wear. Grace can take the guest room when she comes to visit." Danny stared at Steve for a long moment, needing to swallow to find his voice.

"I'm tired," practically comatose, "I'm going to my room now to sleep. Do not wake me up or the next time you break a limb you can damn well heal it yourself."

The grin Steve gave him was enough to chase away the lingering doubts about this arrangement, at least for the time being, and then Steve rounded the bed and dragged him into a crushing hug, wrapping around him like a freaking octopus that didn't have any intention of letting go. Danny was okay with that for a long while, seeing as his own arms were kind of locked in place.

"Don't do that to me again," Steve ordered, loosing a bit of the command he was probably aiming for when he squeezed Danny tighter. There wasn't much Danny retort with so he just held on a little longer, soaking up the comfort, careful not to take anything extra from Steven to alleviate his tiredness.

"Sleep," Danny muttered after a long while and pulled away, gripping Steve's shoulder once more and refusing to let the last months experiences to sour physical contact for him. Especially not with family. Steve followed him to his new room, the one Danny would be staying in for however long they could stand each other or circumstances changed. "You gonna tuck me in, too? Cause I gotta say that's a little above and beyond…"

"Here," Steve rolled his eyes and pulled a pill pack out of his pocket, tossing it to Danny and pointing at the tall fresh glass of water that sat on the bedside next to Grace's picture. "For the nausea," he explained.

Danny had thought he'd hidden the symptoms, but apparently not much got passed his new roommate. He popped the pills out and swallowed them down.

"I thought the nausea was supposed to leave once the boats were out of the picture," he complained and slid into bed despite Steve still standing by the door. He'd once fallen asleep in the car during a stakeout and drooled all over Steve's shoulder; climbing under sheets in his presence didn't bother him in the least. The afternoon sunlight was filtering in through the window, warming the entire room and the bed…the bed was glorious. Mind you at this point any horizontal surface with a sheet would have probably made him happy.

"Land sickness," Steve explained softly, looking pained. "Your body got used to the constant motion, now it needs to adjust to being back on solid ground."

"Wonderful, and here I was worried it was just shock." Danny was already sinking into sleep, for once not at all concerned about people barging into his room whenever they felt like it. The only people around here were ones he trusted explicitly. "'S not fair," he slurred.

"No, it isn't," Steve agreed softly. Danny didn't wait around to hear anything else, falling into slumber without any more resistance.

-H5O-

"Howzit?" Chin asked softly stepping up beside Steve, a cold beer sweating in his hand as he rested his forearms over the white railing and looked across the back yard to the beach. Steve glanced at him in acknowledgment before his attention was once again pulled to the waters edge.

"Pretty good considering," he shrugged and took a pull of his own beer, and grimaced when he realized it had turned warm without him noticing. Below them Kono was moving swiftly across the lawn, bright smile in place and towel in hand with the obvious intent to join Danny and Grace in the water. They both greeted her with a smile, Grace going so far as jumping up from their sandcastle endeavor to give her a hug that nearly took her out at the knees.

"Grace?" Chin asked, and there was no way to misinterpret the wealth of questions in that one name. Steve rubbed the back of his neck a moment before shaking his head a little.

"Rachel says she's had some restless nights. Nothing too serious, but she's been calling Danny at all hours just to check that he's really home, making sure he hasn't disappeared on her again."

"Staying here the next few days should help."

"Her mom pulled her from school for the week. They've been on the beach all day." At that Steve couldn't help a little grin. Danny might not like the sandy beach all that much but for his little girl he would do anything, up to and including burying his legs in the sand so she could sculpt him into a merman. Steve had pictures; he planned on pulling them out the next time Danny was being a dick about paperwork. Maybe he'd blow one up to poster size for the break room.

"I can tell, even from here he looks like he's as red as a mountain apple," Chin looked as amused as he was worried by this and Steve nodded. They were all going to be overprotective of their Jersey implant for a while, there was no way they could avoid it. They'd lost Danny, violently and without a trace and Steve knew they had all had darker moments where they'd written him off as dead. Now he was back and, aside from his obviously malnourished state there were no signs of the trauma he had been through. When Steve closed his eyes at night he saw Danny's blood mingled with his own on the ground.

The guy still hadn't told him what all the tiny, infected and bruised looking puncture marks that had been littered all over his chest and stomach had been from, but Steve could guess. From the hard, angry glint he sometimes spotted in Chin's eyes when the man was unobtrusively watching Danny he knew he had figured it out as well.

"SPF 50 and after only half an hour he can blend in with a lava flow," Steve shook his head. "Grace made him wear her sunhat." That got a full grin from Chin and it lit up his whole face.

"The one with the pink and purple hibiscus print?"

"Yep."

"Tell me you got a picture brah."

"I'll send you copies later," Steve shared and Chin gazed in amusement down to the beach where Danny had retreated to the shaded beach chair while the girls went swimming. Steve watched as he all but collapsed onto the seat, the exhaustion visible now that he wasn't setting his full attention to entertaining his daughter. It made Steve tense all over again and beside him Chin's amusement petered away.

"He sleeping through the night?" Chin asked and Steve wanted to laugh at the concept.

"Between Grace's phone call's and the land sickness he's lucky if he gets four hours uninterrupted."

"Nightmares?"

"Not yet," Steve took a swig of his beer despite its warm flatness. "It's only been three days, I don't think he's over the shock of being home yet."

Chin was polite enough, at least for now, to not ask after Steve's own insomnia. Between the nightmares that _he_ still had and with the nearly irresistible need to check on Danny every damn hour it was probably a miracle he could function as well as he was, navy training or not.

"Kono tells me the morning went well," Chin announced, his tone as dry as ever and at that Steve did snort in exasperation and shook his head.

"It was too soon," to go into the office, he thought. "The investigators kept insisting on getting the interviews done and Danny insisted on getting the paperwork done and the Governor insisted on stopping by for coffee and digging around to see when he would be ready to come back to full duty," the irritation was quickly leeching into anger but he didn't bother to put a lid on it. Here and now he wasn't the boss, he was the friend and Chin was well aware of the situation. "Between that and his stubborn pride to prove that he's okay he was wiped out by lunch and _then_ half his old department decided to try and drop in one by one, acting like they had given two shits about him before he transferred over to Five-O and trying to get the inside scoop."

That made Chin stiffen, because if anyone here knew how it felt to have people who had never had your back suddenly burst forward with a false show of support it was him. Although Steve still doubted Chin had had a lot of the Honolulu police department trying to do anything but show him the door since he'd been reactivated on Steve's team.

"You didn't break any limbs before you dragged him out of there right?" He asked, only half serious, "because they're not gonna want to be placated by me these next few weeks." Of course by the tone in his words Steve figured Chin was more than ready and willing to deal with any disgruntled individuals, but they probably wouldn't be leaving the Five-O headquarters any happier.

"No broken anything," Steve was only slightly dejected over that. "How'd your morning go?" This was said softer despite the fact that there was no chance of being overheard, anywhere, and he stood straighter and faced Chin, who was wearing an equally serious expression.

"No trace found on the ship will link back to you or Danny. Just don't give anyone any reason to do a DNA comparison of you two until the investigation is officially closed and you'll be good to go." Steve nodded, his chest tight with apprehension but at this point all they could do was wait and see if any connection would be made to Danny.

They hadn't had time to swipe or destroy any of the medical information that they had compiled on Danny or Steve, but Danny was pretty positive that Marcel wouldn't risk exposing his identity to 'competitors' by putting his real name in the files. Still, there was a lot of evidence he hadn't been able to touch, let alone destroy, that could possibly trace back to them one day. Steve hoped to god Danny was right about Marcel van Hoorn's level of secrecy, but on the off hand chance that he wasn't Steve and Chin were in the process of finalizing a back-up plan(s) to try and keep Danny safe from anyone, including the government. It involved multiple fake ID's and passports, burn phones, unregistered weapons, cash and well packed bags sitting patiently at the back of his closet. He was ready to grab his partner and run at a moments notice. Whether Danny wanted it or not: he was stuck with Steve.

"Good," Steve nodded.

"Nobody's connected anyone to the anonymous tip for Danny's location and an early forensic report is turning up no fingerprints but Danny's own on all the cans, bottles, and old razor in the room," Chin continued and they both looked down to where Danny was practically comatose on the lounge, an early evening breeze sweeping the palm fronds far above his head. It seemed that even after everything Danny had still had the forethought to put his hands around every item he could in that dingy room they had locked him in, making their cover story that much more plausible.

"The other anonymous tip that provided the Dutch Navy cause to perform a surprise inspection of Marcel's ship has also not been traced to anything more than a burn phone originating in Japan." That made Steve smile in sharp appreciation. When Chin put a plan together he didn't half ass it and the Dutch Navy vessel that had conveniently been making tour across the Pacific had reached Marcel's cargo ship only five hours after they had left.

"Marcel's brother?"

"He hasn't made any moves that I'm aware of, but seeing as Marcel is MIA he has his hands full with running his business and dealing with the fallout of the massive weapons shipment and dead bodies on the ship. Danny thinks the guy was too sick to recognize him from the healing and he never saw him in person again afterwards so we'll need to keep an eye on him with our fingers crossed."

"What about any other _clients_ Danny was forced to help?" It made his skin crawl thinking about it and Chin shook his head darkly.

"Danny said Marcel made him cover up identifying features as much as possible. There's no way to tell if they will be able to figure out his identity."

"We'll need to be prepared for the possibility though, no surprises," he said darkly and Chin nodded.

"No surprises," he made it sound like a pact, which Steve supposed it was. He rubbed absently at his chest and missed the knowing look Chin gave him as his attention was once again drawn to his partner down on the beach. "He looks thirsty," Chin announced and Steve looked to him with a frown and then glanced at the bar-b-q that was more than warm enough for the steaks to be thrown on, to which Chin gave him a very unimpressed eyebrow frown. "I think I can manage the steaks Steve."

"Right, you sure?" Steve checked just in case and looked at the tray piled high with meat that he had been in charge of cooking. Chin's answer was to ignore him and turn to inspect the cuts of beef and Steve didn't need to be told a third time.

Switching up his beer for two fresh ones from the fridge and grabbing a carefully sealed paper bag off the counter he moved quietly down the stairs (it paid to practice his stealth), across the lawn that was in dire need of mowing, and up to the lounge chair beside Danny. He pressed the chilled beer to his partner's neck and only felt mildly guilty when the guy jumped violently. He held nothing back in the venomous gaze he sent Steve's way and any hint of guilt flipped to full amusement as Steve sat in his own seat and held the offering out.

"Beer?" he asked the obvious and waited for Danny's ire to show itself in its normal verbose fashion. Danny was rarely one to disappoint.

"Sure, yeah, I'd love to imbibe, just give me a moment to get over this heart attack and I'm all yours babe" he snapped without any real heat. The fact that he had already taken the bottle from Steve didn't help the façade of irritation. He took a small drink, barely a sip, before resting it on the edge of the chairs plastic arm and looked out to the water. Steve followed his gaze to where Grace and Kono were leaping through the waves, occasionally waving spastically with their arms and squealing like dolphins. Earlier in the evening Steve had managed to avoid pretending to be an actual seal by convincing Grace it was more fun for him to just throw her around in the water while her dad hollered at them about spinal injuries and whiplash from under his shady tree. "Need to give you a bell," he muttered just loud enough for Steve to hear.

"I'm not really the jewelry type Danno, but if you really want to buy me something pretty there's-"

"No," Danny cut him off with an emphatic wave that had Steve relaxing just a bit more. "No I am not buying you anything that is shiny, sharp or goes kaboom so just forget about it. In fact _you_ should be buying me something nice and shiny to make up for the fact that you have, for the _second time_ in the last two years, caused a complete upheaval in my very comfortable life without even a hint of approval."

"That's not true," Steve felt the need to point out with his drink, because he had learned a long time ago that if he didn't argue with Danny about pretty much everything then the guy would assume that meant he agreed with him, which was infinitely worse in the long run. "I had both the Governor and police chiefs approval when I transferred you to Five-O," he took a victorious drink and lowered the bottle to see Danny's glare of disgruntlement. "And I got you a nice new shiny set of keys for the front door." Danny's glare deepened at that which only made Steve feel even better as he grinned smugly.

"Keys which I already had and did not need upgrading to a pretty, pink, Disney princess pattern thank you very much." And of course Steve had made sure to give the brightly pictured keys to Danny with Grace right beside him so he would need to carry them around for a few weeks at least before he 'accidently' misplaced them.

"Give them to Gracie then," Steve shrugged, good naturedly giving him an out and just like that Danny's entire demeanor softened and his glare lost its intensity.

"You sure?" he asked softly and looked back out to where his daughter was happily splashing around and smiling when she caught him looking and waved. "Because giving her keys would be announcing that I'm staying and if you don't really mean it" he gave Steve a pointed look that hid his anxiety over the situation well enough. The thing was Steve was pretty damn good at hearing underlying emotions in his partner's tone, and that always gave him away.

"Danny, your brothers are arriving tomorrow morning and your parents and sister in another two days. I've got air mattress's set up in the den, enough beer and food to host two pig roasts and a plan to put them all to work on demolishing the wall in your room to double the space. Have I somehow given you the impression that I'm on the fence about this whole thing?" Danny looked away from him at that, his throat bobbing as he swallowed and then he took a large drink of beer to stall for time. Steve just leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, waiting.

"No," Danny finally admitted and in true Danny form he sounded touched and irritated at the same time. "And don't get me wrong, because what you're doing here: inviting me into your home, letting me infiltrate your life like this…I appreciate it. I really do," Steve sensed a 'but' in there and he didn't have to wait long before Danny turned to face him head on, the way he always did when he had something he felt was important to say. "But I have to wonder whether or not you've actually thought this _all_ the way through, because this" he gestured at his self and his eyebrows rose to help make his point, "I've been dealing with this, this thing, this way that I am since I could walk. I was dealing with it when I fixed up a kid who fell out of the tree in a very public playground and my parents made the choice to abandon their entire life and run to keep me safe. I was dealing with it when" he paused here and his lips curled into each other a moment before he forced himself to relax and took a breath.

"I've been dealing with this since my parents died in a car accident running from _another_ home because I couldn't restrain myself. I have been dealing with this through foster care and finding Paul and Matty and their family and marrying Rachel and having my little girl. Dealing and lying and covering it up. My point is that I know what it means, what it really means to be this" he gestured at himself again, "way and I have had the reality of it shoved in all our faces this last month. It is very possible that it will not be an ideal future I have ahead of me. There is a reason I kept this _thing_ about me contained, a reason my parents died for it, a reason I only use it when it's life or death and even then I've passed people by," his voice thinned out at the admittance, misplaced guilt evident before he found his resolve and hid it away with a firmer voice. "I just need to make sure that you really know what you could be getting into here." He paused and took a breath, his eyes a storm grey as he tried to stare Steve down, tried to glare into him the idea that he was being the biggest moron in the world for insisting on making Danny a likely permanent part of his. Trying to force Steve to acknowledge that by taking this on with Danny he could very well end up dead. Permanently, as opposed to the other, temporary death he'd experienced recently.

He was scared, but Steve already knew that. Steve understood, maybe not to the same depth as Danny but enough to know where he was coming from. He was scared and he was damaged in a way that his gift of healing couldn't whisk away, but that was okay because Steve was damaged too and he was fine with them being broken together. He had this strange notion that they would work better that way, that they would _be_ better that way.

"Steven?" Danny prodded after a moment when Steve just kept staring at him, which was apparently a moment too long in Danny's world of fast flowing words and take no prisoner's way of charging into conversations that clearly made him anxious. One thing was for damn sure: they would never have to worry about where they both stood on the house rules as living with Danny probably meant he was going to hear about every single thing that pissed him off the moment it happened.

"Danno," he sounded as confident as he felt and leaned forward that tiny fraction more to help emphasize his point. "I know what I'm getting in to."

He held his partner's gaze to make his point for a long moment before leaning back to gaze out at the water. Danny didn't move for a time before sitting back in his chair and, finally, his shoulders loosened as he accepted what Steve had committed to. Of course that didn't mean he accepted it quietly.

"I know what I'm getting into he says," Danny mock repeated with a hopeful smile in his eyes. "I pour my heart out and that's all he has to say."

"I didn't ask you to dictate a novel to me," Steve grumped back, delighting in the disparaging glare Danny graced him with.

"I'm just pointing out yet another way the army has arrested your ability to communicate and express your feelings like a normal human being," Danny waved his barely touched beer around before letting it sit on the armrest and Steve nearly balked at the normality of the gesture. The normality of this entire evening when a few short days ago it was looking less and less hopeful that they would ever be able to come home.

"Navy Danny, I'm in the _Navy_," he annunciated, hesitated a moment, and then thought to hell with it: despite Danny's ability to talk an ear off a statue he had proven that he very rarely said anything of deeply personal import and Steve needed to get this important, driving expectation into the air so that Danny understood exactly what Steve wanted from him.

"This thing you have, Danny?" His switch back to serious had Danny tensing up again but it couldn't be helped at the moment. "This habit you've apparently developed where it's okay to fix us without a moments hesitation? You can't keep going like that. It can't just be you giving all the time. We're partners here and that means we work together. That moment on the helicopter when you nearly gave up on yourself because you were afraid of somehow hurting us? That never happens again."

"You don't-"

"No," Steve cut him off and let a little of his anger, a little of his fear, saturate his words as he stared out at the water. "No excuses. I know there's a reason you didn't want to do it, I know something happened to make it a legitimate fear and I don't expect you to tell me what it is unless you want to, but you will _never_ compromise your own life like that again. You will not compromise your own safety by helping me at any time, and you will not hesitate to borrow a little whatever-it-is from me if you need it to fix things; things like that third degree sunburn you're currently a proud owner of." He turned to Danny to find the ever-present scowl in place and after a moment he held out his hand and wiggled his fingers. "Fix it, now, so I don't have to go buy industrial strength vinegar and a giant aloe plant to deal with all the bitching about the pain later."

"I'm not going to-"

"You healed yourself once for something a hundred times heavier," Steve put his foot down with a dark glare. "You're not alone in this anymore Danny. Give and take, keep the circle flowing" he reached his hand out a little closer to Danny demandingly. Danny stared at him for a long moment before exhaling loudly out his nose and grabbing Steve's wrist. Steve closed his own hand around Danny's and couldn't help the content smile he knew was on his face.

"Do not think that, just because we're figuring out this back and forth thing here, that I will magically heal every little boo-boo you get. You go jumping from one moving vehicle to another just because you can then you will be dealing with the consequences lone wolf style Steven. I will not be an excuse for you to do even crazier crap than usual; I will be divorced from your industrious search for self-inflicted pain and I will _laugh_ at you very loudly with every single hangover you parade before me."

"I don't get hangover's Danny," Steve pointed out as Danny practically tossed his arm back to him in feinted disgust. Steve looked him over, noting that the painful looking red on his skin was now a faint blush and he didn't feel any worse for wear. Danny was getting better at balancing the energy transfer already and Steve wondered if, with more practice, Danny would be able to draw on the energy of everything around him and not just through direct contact with other people. He wondered if repeated exposure to Danny's ability made it easier to heal quickly afterward, because it had certainly only improved for himself. These were things he'd have to mention in the future, weeks, maybe months from now when they weren't as raw and on edge. Maybe then he would bring up the fact that since Danny had met Steve, Chin and Kono he had begun healing people without even being aware of it.

Steve personally believed it was because here, with them, Danny finally felt protected enough to be himself. Of course that could just be Steve's ego talking as he'd been told he had a fairly outrageous amount of self-confidence.

"Of course you don't get hangovers. Your liver probably turns booze into pre-oxygenated blood cells that give you the energy to scale Mauna Kea in one breath." Steve grinned and then, remembering, he grabbed the paper bag he had put on the ground and tossed it at Danny, who fumbled to catch it while not losing his drink and glaring at Steve. "What's this?" he demanded even as he was putting the beer down and pulling the top apart to peer into its depths.

When he saw what it was he hesitated a moment, blinking rapidly, and took a deep breath before reaching in and pulling out a freshly baked malasada. He held it in the air a long moment, just looking at it as some of the sugar flaked off and landed on his white t-shirt. His gaze drifted over the sandy beach to his daughter and Kono playing in the surf, and a slow smile, one of the rare true smiles that came out once in a blue moon, lit up his face. He held the opened bag over and Steve didn't hesitate to reach in and grab one of the golden, doughy treats for himself, feeling the sugar press into its soft surface between his fingers.

"To scaling Mauna Kea," Danny toasted, raising it up and Steve knocked their malasadas together.

"And making it down the other side," Steve finished and shoved the entire baked good into his mouth. It was a tight fit, but he managed and gave Danny a dough filled, sugar laced grin.

"Remind me again how you got the nickname 'Smoothdog?' Because I have yet to witness evidence to back up that claim-" he started but had to pause as he bit into his own malasada and then held the bag out as Gracie, apparently a bloodhound for anything sugar coated, came splashing out of the water with her eyes locked on the target and a greedy, shark-like grin on her face.

"You know how I got it," Steve managed around the dough and Danny, for once, just kept quiet and smiled.

...**Two Months Later**…

"_-authorities have closed their investigation into the multiple-homicides that took place two months ago aboard the Netherland based cargo ship that was found delivering a massive cache of illegal firearms, explosives, and harmful chemicals across international waters-"_

Governor Jameson frowned, ignoring the old images of the cargo ship being hauled into a port in Rotterdam on the television in favour of looking over the file that lay open before her. Over the last month she had gone over the same file countless times, trying to spot something that she knew she was missing and was unable to figure out.

"_-rumoured that the attack which took place while they were travelling across the open Pacific could have been anything from a rival weapons dealer to opportunistic pirates-" _

Sipping from her tumbler filled with expensive brandy she stared down at the large glossy picture, willing the answers she wanted to jump to the forefront. Three more folders sat off to the side, updated and complete and she rested a hand on the top one briefly, wondering if the answers she was searching for were in that pile instead.

"_-evidence that certain rooms aboard were specifically designed to detain people-"_

She hadn't even suspected anything out of the ordinary until Woo Fat had contacted her and begun inquiring, in an offhand way, about Detective Daniel Williams. Looking down at the headshot from the mans official employee file she remained in the dark as to the reasoning behind the sudden interest. The one thing she did know was that Williams had suddenly drawn enough interest from the criminal mastermind that he had momentarily lost interest in Steven McGarrett. This was enough to get her attention one hundred percent.

"What is it about you?" she muttered softly as she looked at the blue eyes staring up at her.

"_-some of the deceased include an ex-special forces soldier from the Dutch military and a physician whom had been cast from the respected medical community due to allegations of involvement with questionable stem cell research-"_

She gently closed the folder, hiding away the detective's face and tapped her finger on the pale manila a few times before frowning in frustration and opening the bottom drawer of her desk. She gently placed Detective Williams file on top of the short pile that already rested there and then, after a long moments deliberation, placed the files of the rest of his team in there with him, McGarrett's name boldly challenging her from the top. She closed the drawer and locked it, sitting back in her chair and finally letting her attention drift to the flat screen across the room. She was done for the night, she'd wonder on this latest mystery later, and with that in mind she left her office for the evening, trusting that her aid would ensure the place was closed up properly as CNN's reporter droned on in the background, soon lost behind the closing door.

"_At this time we can only speculate on the death of Alfonse Van Hoorn just last week and what it really means in connection to his famiy's business in the illegal arms trade. All we can say for certain is that the need for vigilance and caution are tantamount in these ambiguous times and we can only hope that terrible deeds such as these shall steer far and clear of our lives. I'm Andrew Webber for CNN news, signing off."_

-END-

First of all, if you've made it all the way to the end I want to thank you for sharing this fictional journey with me Every single comment and even just knowing so many people were reading this, helped brighten my days a great deal and made it all the effort that much more worthwhile in the end.

Second: **ARTWORK**! As I mentioned in the notes at the beginning of this story I had two wonderful fantastic artists volunteer to make some beauticul, emotional pictures that are so complimentary to this story that I really still don't know how to thank them. You MUST SEE IT! The ARTWORK LINKS can be found on my profile page and I would be sad if you didn't get the chance to admire all the skill Evening_Spirit and Aluminus have

**FUTURE STORIES: ** I have been asked several times if I will be writing future chapters for this particular universe. Sadly at this point in time I have no intention of doing so. I purposely left the ending open to be evil. No, I'm kidding! Well, mostly kidding. I left the story open ended to make it more realistic and because the possibilities are endless and I love it when readers can take something and continue it within their own imagination. I'm sorry if this upsets some people, I really am, but hey! If anyone ever wants to play with this particular 'verse (or make their own similar one) I am all for it! Have a blast! You know…Kono and Chin haven't been shot in this verse yet, maybe they feel left out ;)

I wrote this fic for the H5O BigBang this year for several reasons: the hopes of kick starting my writing once again, attempting a 'crime drama' genre (yeah… apparently I'm more of a 'crime superpower drama' type of gal), and because, let's face it, the characters are great! I figured 30,000 words should cover it, I'll be done in no time, piece of cake.

Riiiiiiiiight.

In the end I was greatly pressed for time to finish this monster and in posting this story to the fanfic(dot)net archive I was able to do a more thorough final edit than I had the time for before. It was definitely worth the extra effort as I personally believe I was able to increase it's overall quality noticeably. Having such fantastic reviewers really helped motivate the effort and provided constructive criticism that I took to heart.

Lastly I would like to thank my wonderful **BETA** Laryn! She took this story on without having seen a single episode of H5O! I can't express how much I appreciate the time and effort she gave (for a fandom she doesn't follow…yet) in order for us all to enjoy a few less run-on sentences :D

To Jess, who speed read this sucker while waiting for her sister to pop out a baby boy! Her comments, criticisms and willingness to let me talk through my ideas helped more than she can probably imagine.

**And finally to Kelly**, who knows this entire fic back to front even though she has yet to read a single paragraph. Aside from having to listen to me fret about it _all the time_ she helped with the research and gave me new ideas of how to get out of the holes I dug myself into. Also she had to deal with the final editing stage where I allegedly (I'm not admitting to anything people!) broke out into song using the story paragraphs for the lyrics. She is sort of Saintly right now :)

You are all terrific wonderful people! And now we can all relax as it's finally (for the second time) over ;)

Cheers.


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